Empire COMPLETE
by Lexwing
Summary: Alternate story of Lex's brother. After Lineage and before Prodigal
1. Default Chapter

Empire, pt.1  
  
Category: Drama Time: after Lineage and before Prodigal Rating: PG-13 for some mild language and violence Disclaimer: all characters property of DC Comics, the WB, etc. Please don't sue the starving grad student. (  
  
Art Sandoval carefully looked around the spacious lobby of the building in downtown Metropolis. At midday it was empty except for a bored- looking security guard sitting behind his desk, so Sandoval went ahead and rang for the elevator. Once inside, he pushed the button for the thirty- second floor, the very top of the expensive and exclusive Armory Building.  
It was only the third time he'd been here, but every time he was awed anew at the kind of money it took to live in a building like this. The carpets were so thick you couldn't hear your own footsteps. The elevators glided soundlessly past floors of luxury apartments. In twenty years on the force he'd earned barely enough money to pay off his small house on the east side and keep food on the table. Now that he was retired, the private detective gig helped supplement his meager pension, but things were still tight. He doubted anyone in this building had ever had to choose between paying the mortgage and sending their kids to college. Hell, these people probably had other people to handle their bills (and their kids) for them.  
The elevator doors slid open on the top floor. There was only one apartment up here, the penthouse. Art crossed the small private lobby to the double doors. A security camera followed his every move. Rich people were always hyper-conscious about security, but he didn't mind-if they weren't he'd be out of a job.  
He knocked on the mahogany doors and after a moment they opened.  
"Sandoval. You're late."  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Luthor. Traffic was a bear."  
He followed his client into the gigantic apartment. The glass walls on two sides on the living room showed a panoramic view of the city of Metropolis, bright and shiny in the sun. Amazing how clean everything looked from up here, Art mused. You'd almost think Metropolis was as nice as it looked on those picture postcards. But as a retired cop, he knew different.  
"Don't let it happen again. I'm a busy man."  
Sandoval knew the importance of humoring his clients, so he just smiled at the younger man. "It won't."  
Lex Luthor crossed the room and gestured to Sandoval to follow him into the study. The wood-paneled room looked like it had been lifted right out of an English manor house and installed in this modern skyscraper. Which, knowing the kind of money the Luthors had to throw around, it probably had been.  
"Bourbon, right?" The younger Luthor was pouring out drinks from a set of crystal decanters.  
Art licked his lips. Everything around here was top of the line, even the alcohol. He happily accepted the glass and the chair Luthor offered him.  
Luthor himself sat down behind the heavy desk and smiled.  
"I take it you have something to report?"  
"I do. You'll remember that the last time we spoke I told you that I'd put out some feelers but that it might take some time for anything to develop. In cases like this it's often a matter of the right person stumbling across the right bit of information at just the right time."  
Lex shrugged. "You're the expert on locating people, not me."  
Sandoval nodded-he'd worked Missing Persons for almost ten years. "I started with the possibility that Lucas Luthor did indeed die in early childhood."  
Leaning back in his chair, Luthor put his feet up on the desk.  
"But there's no death certificate. Right?"  
"Right. No child with that name has died in Metropolis, or any other city, in the last twenty years."  
"So my father lied. Hardly surprising."  
Art didn't respond. Whatever problems Luthor had with his old man were none of his business. Still, seeing the young man's grim expression, Art was glad he'd only had daughters.  
"It's possible the child may have died after being adopted, and is buried under a different name," Sandoval suggested. "But that would still be traceable in the public records, if you know how to look. And I do. So now I'm operating under the assumption that Lucas Luthor is alive but living under the name of his adoptive parents. And with the funds you so generously provided I was able to make some inquiries."  
"And?"  
"And last week one of my sources forwarded this." Sandoval reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. He slid it across the desk to his client.  
Luthor unfolded it and read it over carefully.  
"What's 'Helping Hands, Inc.'?"  
Sandoval took another swig of his bourbon. "It's kind of a clearing house for adoptees and biological parents trying to find each other. You send in your information on an application like this one, and they see if they can make a match with someone else."  
Lex frowned. "I thought information on adoptions were sealed by the courts."  
Art nodded. He knew the other man had made some inquiries on his own, but had gotten nowhere, even with all his money and influence. But he knew a few tricks Luthor didn't.  
"They are. That is, you just can't walk in and find out who your birth parents are, and birth parents just can't walk in and find out what happened to their kid. However, if both parent and child agree to search for each other services like this can help them contact each other. Rachel Dunlevy wrote to nearly every one in the country, and posted all over the Internet, looking for her son."  
"But she never got this?" Lex held up the single sheet of paper.  
"Look at the date--this only came in about two months ago. After Ms. Dunlevy had been committed."  
Lex re-read the paper, frowning. "And you think this might be him?" "The date of birth he gives matches the one Ms. Dunlevy posted in her searches. And he claims to have been born in Metropolis. I suppose his adoptive parents could have told him that much."  
Luthor was silent for a long moment, rubbing the paper between forefinger and thumb. Sandoval couldn't tell what he was thinking, so he continued.  
"If this is your half-brother, he was adopted by a family name Carter up in Central City. They named him Andrew Jacob, and he's going on seventeen years old. Old enough to start wondering about his birth parents, I guess."  
"I suppose." Lex still looked thoughtful. "I want you to find out everything else you can about him. What sort of people adopted him, when, what he looks like." He reached into the top drawer and withdrew his checkbook. Luthor wrote out a check and handed it across to Art.  
The ex-policeman took one look at all the zeros and nearly fell out of his chair.  
Lex smiled. "See that part of it gets back to your source; we might need his or her help again if this lead doesn't pan out. Use the rest of it for your trip to Central City."  
Sandoval sat back in his chair with a satisfied smile.  
"I don't have to go to Central City."  
Luthor regarded him with raised eyebrows. Art could tell he was mildly surprised. And more than a little annoyed.  
"Oh, really? Enlighten me."  
Art grinned. It was nice to have the upper hand with a Luthor, even if just for a moment. It wasn't something he ever expected to have again and he wanted to savor the moment.  
"I don't have to go to Central City because the boy's living here in Metropolis." **************************************  
  
"Clark? Did you get the pie on the counter?"  
"Yeah, Mom." Clark let the screen door close behind him with a thump. He carefully balanced one of his mom's apple pies as he went down the porch steps.  
His parents were already in the truck, and Clark squeezed into the front seat with them.  
Jonathan Kent sniffed appreciatively.  
"Wow, that smell good," he said hopefully.  
Between her husband and son Martha Kent laughed. "Don't worry-I made an extra one for us. I just hid it until dinner so you two wouldn't demolish it.  
Clark grinned. Now that she had a job his mom hadn't had much time for baking, and he and his father both sorely missed her muffins and pies. So did the Talon: Lana Lang had told him food sales were down now that they no longer featured organic apple pie on the menu. But his mom seemed happy, and Clark didn't want to ruin things by making her feel guilty.  
"I'm sure the Winters will really appreciate it," he offered as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the country road. Instead of heading east toward town they turned west and passed through acres of cornfields. Finally they came to a dirt road and pulled into a newly cleared lot.  
Standing on the porch of his half-built house, Jim Winters waved at them.  
"Martha, Jonathan, glad you could come! And you brought Clark, too!"  
"Place looks good, Jim," Clark's father nodded as his jumped out of the truck. The two men shook hands.  
Mr. Winters glanced over his shoulder at the long, low structure. "I got the roof on before the snow flies, that's what counts," he chucked. "I figure I can work on the interior once the weather gets bad."  
"I brought some dessert for you and Molly," Martha held out the pie with a smile.  
"I'd say you shouldn't have, but I love your baking too much. Come inside and we'll have it with some coffee."  
The Kents followed Mr. Winters into the house. Half unpacked boxes shared space with stacks of wood and rolls of insulation.  
Molly Winters rose from her chair and smiled.  
"Welcome, welcome! Come into the kitchen-I made Jim finish that room first so we could at least have someplace to cook dinner."  
The new kitchen was spacious and sunny, with an east-facing window. Clark's parents oohed and ahhed appropriately over everything. Mr. Winters drew water from an urn on the countertop, explaining the house hadn't yet been hooked up to the city's water supply and they were still drinking well water. That wasn't unusual this far out of town; Clark's house had a well in the backyard. Jonathan had carefully boarded it up when Clark was little so he and Pete could play outside safely. Mr. Winters set the coffee brewing as Mrs. Winters served the pie. The five of them sat down around the table.  
"Well, Jim, you said you'd build the house of your dreams and by god if you didn't do it," Jonathan laughed around a forkful of apples.  
"And it only took me twenty years," the other man grinned. "But I figured if we waited any longer there wouldn't be any point in building. We got a fair deal on our old place, and we got the lot for a song because with the down slope it's too hard to farm."  
"I helped put in the windows," Molly said proudly. "And my dad's out here nearly every weekend, too."  
Martha patted her friend's hand. "I hope you're not overdoing it, Molly."  
"I feel fit as anything, Martha, really I do. The dialysis is only once a week now, and Dr. Sims says I'm doing just fine."  
"Her pop and I are looking out for her health, don't you worry," Jim grinned. "Diabetes hasn't slowed my Molly down one bit."  
"Good thing, too, what with the extra hours Jim's putting in at Luthor-I mean, LexCorp." Molly laughed. "Can't get used to that new name."  
"The young Luthor's got big plans," Jim explained. "Wants to expand, and I figure if I put in a little overtime now the bills won't stack up quite as high this year."  
  
"Amen to that," Jonathan nodded. Clark knew his dad was thinking of his own stack of bills at home. His mom's salary was only now starting to make a dent in them, but it would be years before they were in the black again.  
"Has Brody seen the new house yet?" Clark asked politely. Brody Winters had been a few years ahead of him in school, and was now down at Kansas State.  
"Not yet, but he's excited about it, too. Wanted to come and help for a few weeks but I told him to focus on his studies," Molly smiled. "He still needs to keep his grades high so he won't loose his scholarship."  
Like most local families, Jim Winters' job as a forklift driver and mechanic out at the plant didn't leave the family with a lot of extra income. Fortunately his only child had been smart enough to earn a scholarship to college. Clark crossed his fingers that when the time came he'd be able to do the same. He couldn't bear it if he made things more difficult for his folks then they already were. He owed them so much already--he'd only recently begun to realize how much.  
His mother must have sensed his thoughts, because she patted his arm.  
"If there's anything we can do to help, let us know, Molly. Clark and Jonathan and I would be glad to help."  
"Oh, no, Martha, you must have your hands full working for Mr. Luthor. How's that going, by the way?"  
"Just fine."  
Jonathan frowned a bit as the Winters smiled politely. No one in town liked Lionel Luthor, and a lot of people were surprised Jonathan Kent had let his wife work for him. Of course, those people really didn't know Martha very well. Once she made up her mind about something she was unmovable.  
Having recently learned why his father disliked Lionel Luthor so much, Clark knew why Martha's job bothered Jonathan so much. It had nothing to do with a lack of apple pies or even what other people thought. His dad didn't trust Lionel Luthor, for good reason. Clark was relieved that so far things were going smoothly enough. He couldn't stand it when his parents fought.  
"Clark, would you like another piece? I forgot how you young men eat!"  
At Molly's laughing exclamation Clark looked down at his now empty plate. He smiled, his face turning a little red as the adults around him laughed. He hadn't even realized he'd finished eating. But he was never one to look a gift horse (or extra dessert) in the mouth, so he held out his plate.  
"Yes, please," he smiled.  
************************************************  
  
"A.J.! Get up-we're late!"  
Catherine Carter pounded on the door to her younger brother's room until he stuck his head out the door. The kid blinked at her.  
"Wha?"  
"You must have hit the snooze button again-it's 7:45. And you've got a serious case of bed head."  
"Oh, man!" A.J. groaned and disappeared back into his room; she could hear him frantically tossing clothes around in the search for something to wear. She hoped he at least found something clean.  
In the kitchen she hastily filled two tall travel mugs with hot coffee. When her brother emerged, in rumpled clothes and with his backpack slug over one shoulder, she gave him one.  
"Breakfast of champions. I'll drop you at school before I go to the hospital. You should just make homeroom."  
Taking a long draw from the mug, A.J. nodded. "Thanks." He grimaced. "Mornings like this I sure miss Annie."  
His sister laughed at the mention of their parents' housekeeper and cook. "Yeah, well, I'm sure she doesn't miss kicking us both out of bed every morning. Maybe she can finally sleep in." She grabbed her keys from the bowl on the table and her own bags and followed A.J. out into the hall and down the stairs. She unlocked her car at the curb and tossed her things in the backseat.  
A.J. was still waxing rhapsodic. "Remember when Annie would make waffles? Or those little crescent roll things with all the melted butter?"  
"Yeah, cholesterol is not in that woman's vocabulary."  
"Spoken like a newly-minted doctor, Cate. Hey, can I drive?"  
"No way." Catherine went around to the driver's side while her brother reluctantly climbed in the passenger seat.  
"You never let me drive," he grumbled.  
"Because I don't want to die."  
A.J. opened his blue eyes widely. "Excuse me, who was it who taught me how to drive?"  
"Yeah, yeah, shut up about that already. You sure you got everything?"  
The boy patted his backpack. "Packed last night, right after Mom called. She made me promise to make things easier for you now you're a, and I quote, 'single mother.'"  
"Did Amber really call me that?" Catherine laughed. "Just think-I got the responsibility of a kid without any of the fun part first."  
"Gross." A.J. made a face. "Anyway, I probably saved us, like, a whole five minutes."  
"I'm impressed," his sister grinned, turning the key in the ignition. "Now let's see if I can live up to my temporary parental responsibilities and get you to school."  
As the car engine roared to life in the cold air they pulled away from the curb. In the morning rush neither of them had noticed the car parked across the street, or the telephoto lens that had captured their every move. 


	2. ch 2

"Normally the hospital doesn't encourage our staff to have visitors, Mr. Luthor. But of course for you we're happy to make an exception." Mr. Caruthers, Head of Administration for Metropolis General Hospital, glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "How did you say you knew Dr. Carter?"  
"Our families are acquainted," Lex offered. In more ways than one, he thought to himself as he followed the other man down one of the gleaming halls of the hospital.  
"She's the most promising of our first year residents," the administrator continued. "Came with glowing recommendations. Of course, as you know Metropolis General hires only the best."  
Lex smiled cynically at the sales pitch. Of course Caruthers was more than happy to accommodate his request to meet with Catherine Carter. After all, the hospital featured the state-of-the-art Lillian Luthor Pediatric Ward. LuthorCorp had donated more money to the hospital over the years than Lex could remember. Just another one of his father's charitable projects, with a hefty tax break on the side. Lionel never did anything just for show-there was always a hidden agenda. Always.  
Lex thought again of the pictures Art Sandoval had produced at their last meeting. He had been struck by the young man's smile, the way he seemed to interact with his sister in the photographs, as if the two of them were close. But most of all he'd been struck by the fact that Andrew Carter looked like Lionel Luthor. Same pointed chin, same unruly head of brown hair, same wide, smooth brow.  
With the information Sandoval provided it hadn't been too hard for Lex to fit the pieces together. In their one conversation about Lucas Lionel had said he'd placed the boy with a "suitable family." He'd laughed at Lex's suggestion that his son would ever have been given to the Kents. No, Lionel might not have wanted the child. But his ego hadn't allowed him to surrender Lucas to any family he considered beneath him in social standing.  
Henry Carter had been educated at Princeton, graduating the same year as Lionel Luthor. The scion of an old, wealthy banking family, Carter had returned to a quiet, private life in Central City while Lionel had built LuthorCorp into one of the richest multinational corporations in the world. The Luthor fortune now outstripped the Carter's many times over. But when Lionel had needed to find a place for his illegitimate son, he'd turned to his old acquaintance. Henry Carter's reputation was impeccable; no one would have dared suggest the adoption of his son wasn't on the up and up. Lionel would have been able to reassure himself the child would be raised in surroundings almost--almost-befitting a Luthor. And Lionel had made sure that the paper trail would led, not to the Carters, but to the Kents.  
It had all been quite smoothly done, really. If Lex wasn't so angry he would have complimented the old man on his ingenuity.  
Of course Lex didn't have hard proof of any of it. Yet.  
"This is the staff lounge for our doctors, Mr. Luthor. The nursing staff has their own the next floor down."  
The administrator looked pitifully hopeful for some feedback from his patron, so Lex nodded approvingly.  
Beaming, Caruthers opened the door. The lounge was spacious, with windows that let in some of the day's fading sunlight. But clearly the doctors weren't big on housekeeping. Newspapers and magazines lay strewn around the room on chairs and tables, and a large ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts. The only people on the room were two male doctors, who hurried out of the room as soon as they saw their boss, and a young woman who was putting things away in a battered metal locker. She spared them only a glance, nodding politely.  
Caruthers gestured in her direction and cleared his throat.  
"Well, I guess I'll leave you now. Please let me know if there's anything else I can do for you, Mr. Luthor."  
"Of course. Thank you for your time."  
When the door closed behind the administrator, Lex turned his attention to the other person in the room.  
"Dr. Carter?"  
The young woman glanced up with a frown. Dressed in street clothes, she was trying to fold her scrubs and white coat.  
"Yes?"  
"Catherine Carter?"  
The frown deepened.  
"Yes. Did you need something? I'm off duty as of ten minutes ago."  
"No, I wanted to speak to you, if you have a moment. My name is Lex Luthor."  
The woman's dark blue eyes widened a bit, and she stopped struggling with the ugly green fabric. She looked at him skeptically.  
"As in.?" She trailed off, but pointed at the ceiling in the general direction of the pediatric ward.  
"That's right."  
"Oh." She still seemed puzzled, but obviously didn't want to offend a potential donor. "What can I do for you?"  
"I believe you and my father are acquainted."  
She shrugged. "Not really, no. But I believe he knew my stepfather, Henry Carter. I may have met him once or twice."  
The doctor went back to sorting through her locker until she produced a backpack and a set of keys.  
"I was very sorry to hear Mr. Carter had passed away."  
"Thank you, I guess." She regarded him steadily for a moment, but when he didn't continue she sighed.  
"Look, Mr. Luthor, I don't want to be rude but I've been on my feet for the last eighteen hours and I'd really like to go home. So if you have a point, I'd appreciate it if you'd get to it."  
Lex smiled. "I wanted to talk to you about your brother."  
"A.J.?" Clearly alarmed, she slammed the locker shut. "What is it? What's wrong?"  
A.J., huh? It was as good a name as any, he guessed.  
"I'm sure he's just fine," he soothed. "I didn't mean to upset you. But this is rather important, and it does concern him."  
She set down her backpack on the table.  
"I'm sorry. Please, go on."  
"It's rather complicated, I'm afraid, and there's no really easy way to explain. Andrew-A.J.-is adopted, correct?"  
"He is."  
"You might not be aware of this, but a few months ago he sent an application to an organization that helps adoptees locate their birth parents."  
Catherine pulled a chair out from the table and sat down.  
"Of course I'm aware of it-he's still a minor, so I had to sign it." She rested her chin in her hand. "How did you know about that?"  
Lex took the chair opposite her.  
"For some months now I've been trying to locate a child given up for adoption. Lucas Luthor."  
She raised her eyebrows. "A relative?"  
"My half-brother."  
Frowning again, the doctor shook her head. "Wait, you think A.J. might be this.Lucas?"  
"Lucas Luthor was born on August 4, 1986, here in Metropolis." Lex could tell by the way she blanched slightly that she recognized the date. "Unfortunately, I don't know any more about him than that, but your brother is the closest I've come so far."  
"There are dozens of boys-maybe hundreds-- born in a city this size every day." She smiled ruefully. "I've helped deliver some of them. The odds that A.J. is who you're looking for."  
"But not dozens of boys adopted into families connected to my own," Lex corrected. He leaned forward a bit.  
"Did your parents ever say anything to either of you about A.J.'s birth parents?"  
Catherine was thoughtful for a long moment.  
"Only that he was born here. Of course, A.J. was only ten when Henry died, but still." She frowned at his expression. "And believe me, if my mother knew anything about A.J.'s biological parents she would have told him by now. Amber doesn't keep secrets very well."  
Lex sat back in his chair. Henry Carter was no longer alive to ask about his son's adoption. Even if he had been, the odds that he would have been honest with Lex were slim. Lionel refused to admit Lucas was even alive. That left him with only one other recourse.  
"There's one way we can be sure. I want A.J. to have a DNA test."  
Dr. Carter stood up. "Look, maybe my brother is the kid you're looking for, but it's far more likely that he isn't. Either way I can't make a decision like this for him."  
Lex thought again of the photographs. She had seemed genuinely fond of Andrew, and he had to admit that if their roles were reversed he would be just as concerned about possibly turning the young man's life upside down.  
"I didn't expect that you would. But I want you to talk to him. Tell him what I've told you, and see if he's willing to take the test. If so, we'll both take it, and then we'll be certain." Lex stood, too, and gave her his card.  
"This is very important to me," he explained in a softer tone. "I don't want to disrupt A.J.'s life any more than I have to. But I may have a brother out there, and I won't rest until I've found out what happened to him."  
She studied the card for a long moment.  
"And if he is your brother? What then?"  
Lex shook his head. "Let's see what the test results say first. Then he and I can decide where to go from there."  
Catherine put the card in her pocket.  
"Look, I won't make any promises. But I will talk to him."  
He nodded. "I'd appreciate it. Please let me know as soon as he's reached a decision." He walked to the door, then turned and smiled. "It was nice meeting you, Dr. Carter. I hope we'll meet again sometime soon." ***********************************  
  
"Clark, hand me the bucket of water, would you?" Pete Ross barely glanced up from where he was scrubbing his car's white wall tires.  
With a grin, Clark handed the bucket to his friend, deliberately sloshing a lot of the water over the rim.  
The other boy stood up, pulling his sopping wet t-shirt away from his body. "Oh, man. You're dead now, Kent. This is war." Pete picked up the soapy sponge and hurled it at him, but Clark sidestepped it easily.  
"Hey, no super speed stuff, Clark. That's cheating."  
"Yeah? I didn't hear you call the rules."  
"My driveway, my rules," Pete grinned.  
"When I gave up part of my Saturday to help you wash your car? That's gratitude."  
"You're helping me because this is the closest you've got to your own set of wheels, and you know it," Pete teased. Both boys knew perfectly well Pete had gotten his car only out of sheer luck: his oldest brother Jim had bought the car in high school, lovingly restoring it to its 1960s glory in auto shop. But now Jim was the proud father of two, and the car was too small for his growing family. So he had entrusted it to the care of his youngest brother. With threats of dire consequences if Pete didn't take good care of it. Hence the weekly washing.  
"Hit a man when he's down, why don't you. I'm still mad about that truck Dad wouldn't let me have."  
Pete rolled his eyes. "Let it go, man. That was, like, a year ago. And nothing but bad mojo could come from something a Luthor gave you. Trust me on this one."  
Clark bit his lip before he jumped to Lex's defense. His continuing friendship with Lex remained a big sore spot with Pete, one that he tried not to push.  
"Maybe now that my mom's working we can save up for another truck," he suggested instead.  
"And speaking of working moms, here comes the esteemed Judge Ross." Both young men stepped aside as Pete's mother swung her Ford sedan into the driveway.  
Kate Ross, an attractive woman Martha Kent's age, smiled at both of them as she got out of the car with a stack of papers in her arms. "Will you two ever get through a car wash without throwing water at each other? Honestly, you'd think you were both still eight years old."  
"Hey, Mom." Pete blushed slightly when his mother kissed him on the cheek.  
"Working on a Saturday, Mrs. Ross? Is that legal?" Clark teased.  
She kissed him, too. "Oh, as usual the county's running a backlog of cases. Just doing my duty by my constituents."  
"C'mon, Mom, you get elected by a landslide every time. I don't think your constituents would care if you took the weekend off."  
"I'm a constituent, and I don't mind," Clark offered.  
Pete grinned. "See?"  
"Yes, yes, you're both very amusing, but I need to get dinner started."  
Retrieving the bucket, Pete shook his head. "Dad's got it covered, Mom. Since he actually took the day off and all."  
Judge Ross' relief was visible.  
"Oh, good. I've been wracking my brain all the way home trying to come up with something to feed you two."  
"Us three," her son corrected. "Dad invited Clark, too."  
"That's nice," she said absently. "Well, maybe I can set the table or something. Go easy with the water, boys; we don't need another drought."  
The two friends watched the Judge disappear into the house.  
"Has your mom come home looking that tired yet, Clark?" Pete said absently.  
Clark shook his head. "Not yet. But her job's not as tough. She only has to put up with Lionel Luthor. Yours has to fight for truth and justice and all that. Man, I'd hate having to make those kinds of decisions."  
"Then never go into law, Clark. Stick with Chloe and be a newspaperman. Or marry Lana and run the Talon. But stay far away from the courtroom. Believe me, with two lawyers for parents I hear more about what's just and what isn't than any guy should have to put up with."  
The taller boy grinned. "C'mon, Pete, don't be so negative. I thought law was kind of a tradition in your family."  
"Yeah, maybe, but you won't catch me doing it. No way do I want that kind of pressure."  
Clark nodded. "Uh huh."  
"I'm totally serious. If you ever catch me in law or politics I give you my permission now to crush my skull. You'd be doing me a favor."  
Shaking his head, Clark refilled the bucket with water from the hose. Pete had always had a tendency to play down how smart he was, probably because he was the youngest of five very accomplished, very smart kids. Pete had opted to become the funny one instead. Clark knew he'd be great at whatever he chose to do in life. Even if what he chose to do was to become yet another Ross lawyer. Or even another Judge Ross.  
He couldn't quite picture his friend doing something that dignified.  
But then, you never knew. *************************************************  
  
A.J. stared at his reflection in the mirrored elevator doors. The same reflection he'd seen every morning stared back at him. Like most adopted kids he's always wondered idly where his nose had come from, what side of the family had passed down their eye and hair colors to him. But now that he had a shot at finding out, he wanted nothing more than to run screaming in the other direction.  
"Are you ok?" His sister asked, glancing over at him. "You look a little queasy."  
"I feel a little queasy," he retorted as the elevator slid to a stop. "How would you feel if Jack Thibodaux suddenly reappeared in your life?"  
At the mention of her biological father, Catherine frowned. "Surprised. Shocked." Then she smiled a bit. "And maybe a little nauseated."  
"See? Now you have an idea how I feel."  
They both stepped out into the small lobby.  
"Plush, isn't it?" Catherine offered in a hushed tone.  
He wished he was in a better mood to appreciate being in the landmark Armory Building. It was in his art history textbook at school, for god's sake. He should have brought his sketchpad to pick up some of the interior details. But, then, he hadn't been thinking too clearly ever since his sister had sat him down and told her about her meeting with Lex Luthor.  
A.J. had never really expected anything to come of his first, tentative search for information about his adoption. Searching, even with the approval of his mother and sister, still felt vaguely disloyal, and the last thing he wanted was to find out that his birth parents didn't want to hear from him. That was why he'd only written to a few places. Just to see. It had never occurred to him that he might turn out to have another sibling-a brother-out there.  
Be careful what you wish for; you might get it, his mother liked to say. He had never appreciated the wisdom of that saying until now.  
"Let's get it over with," his sister suggested. "Then you'll feel better."  
He wasn't sure he agreed, but he allowed himself to be towed to the double doors. No sooner did she knock than the doors swung open and a man in a suit greeted them.  
"Dr. Carter, Mr. Carter. Please come in."  
Catherine glanced over at her brother and shrugged, following the man into the apartment.  
Both of them took in the enormous living room, with its expensive leather furniture and sweeping views. Carefully lit paintings decorated the two interior walls, and A.J. was pretty sure those were in his art history textbook, too. Unfortunately he couldn't think straight enough to remember the artists' names.  
"Dr. Carter, I'm pleased to see you again." A younger man detached himself from the two other people in the room and approached them. He and Catherine shook hands, and then he turned with a smile to A.J.  
Catherine smoothed over the brief silence.  
"A.J., this is Lex Luthor. Mr. Luthor, this is my brother, A.J." He wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a slight edge in Cate's voice at the word 'brother.' A.J. nodded politely, unable to think of anything to say.  
"I'm pleased to meet you, A.J. I've heard a great deal about you."  
"Hey," was all he could come up with in response. Since his brain seemed to be failing him, A.J. opted to study Lex. Catherine had given him a pretty accurate description of the Luthor heir. Tall, but not much taller than him or Cate. Lean, with expensive-looking dark clothes. His bald head would certainly make him stand out in a crowd, although in a weird way it seemed to suit him. What really struck A.J. about him, however, were his eyes: a pale shade of blue, one that could look green or gray depending on the light. Sort of the shade of blue you'd get when a lake iced over in winter. A.J. had spent a lot of time thinking up an analogy for that color, because his eyes were the same shade.  
"This is my personal physician, Dr. Means," Lex gestured to a dark haired man, "and Mr. White is one of my lawyers." The man who had opened the door nodded.  
"Why do we need a lawyer?" Catherine asked.  
"Oh, just in case, Dr. Carter," White smiled.  
His sister was never one to be put off with a pat answer to a question.  
"Just in case what?" she frowned.  
A.J. squeezed his sister's arm.  
"Don't worry about it, Cate. Let's just get it over with, ok?"  
She gave him a long look from under her lashes, but finally let the matter drop.  
"I'm sure that as a physician herself your sister has explained the procedure to you," Dr. Means spoke up.  
"Yes."  
"Of course, these tests are usually easier with a sample from a parent, but since that isn't possible in this case I've already taken a sample from Mr. Luthor. That will be compared to yours for any genetic similarities."  
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why that wasn't possible-last he'd heard Lionel Luthor wasn't dead-but A.J. held back. Odds were they weren't related anyway, so what difference would it make?  
"Got it."  
He sat in the chair next to where the doctor had laid out a series of long cotton swabs and other paraphernalia. In retrospect the whole thing seemed anti-climactic--just a few sweeps with a swab against the inside of his mouth and it was over.  
"That's it?"  
"That's it." Dr. Means carefully placed the sample into a glass tube. "Results might take several days, so if I were you I'd go home and relax."  
A.J. could have slugged him. How was he supposed to relax when he was this close to finding out who his birth parents were? Was this guy his brother? Or would he have to go back to wondering where he'd come from?  
He must have been scowling, because his sister spoke up.  
"I'm sure you'll let us know as soon as you can. I guess we can go, then."  
A.J. stood up, and Luthor looked at him seriously.  
"Thank you for agreeing to do this, A.J. I appreciate it."  
"No problem. I guess it's the only way to know for sure, right?"  
"I guess so," the other man nodded.  
A.J. had never felt so uncomfortable in his life, and he knew everyone else in the room felt the same way. The whole thing was so ridiculously awkward he almost laughed. Almost.  
He politely shook hands with Lex, and then the lawyer, White, escorted them out again. It wasn't until they were back in the gleaming elevator that Cate spoke up again.  
"Well?"  
"He has my eyes. Or I have his. Or something like that."  
His sister laid a gentle hand on his arm.  
"I know. I saw it, too. 


	3. ch 3

"Clark, are you up there?"  
At the sound of the voice calling up the stairs, Clark sat up on the old couch.  
"Yeah, Lex. What's up?"  
Still dressed for work, his friend appeared at the top of the loft stairs.  
"Hi, Clark. How's it going?"  
The younger man pointed to the stack of books on the old trunk he used as a coffee table. When his dad had built the new barn a few years ago, Clark had taken over the old one as his private space: part hangout, part study hall, and part refuge.  
"English lit test. George Eliot though Charles Dickens."  
"The greatest hits of the nineteenth century." Lex picked up a copy of Silas Marner and idly thumbed through it. "Not one of my personal favorites, although art does imitate life."  
As he often did with Lex's more cryptic comments, Clark let that one go.  
"Long time no see. I hear you're pretty busy out at the plant."  
"We're cleaning out Level 3 so we can use the space. Since my father has refused to tell me what was going on down there we're not sure what exactly we might run into in terms of contamination. It's been taking a lot more time and effort than it otherwise would." Lex tossed the book back on the trunk. "But in business expansion's the name of the game."  
"Rome wasn't built in a day, Lex," Clark counseled.  
"No, but the Visigoths managed to destroy it almost that fast," his friend countered. He sat down in a ratty old chair opposite the couch. "There's a lesson in there, somewhere."  
Clark raised his eyebrows.  
"Never invite barbarians over for a house party?"  
The lame comment got the reaction he was looking for-Lex laughed.  
"Maybe. Listen, Clark, I actually didn't drop by to discuss world history or your English exam."  
At his friend's serious expression Clark dropped the levity.  
"Sure-what's up?"  
Lex looked at him steadily. "I need some advice."  
"You need advice? From me?"  
Up until this point, Lex had always been the one giving the advice-about girls, about parents. About life. Lex had crammed a lot of living into his twenty-three years.  
Clark shrugged.  
"I can't promise I'll come up with anything brilliant, but I'll do my best."  
"Clark, what would you do if your biological parents suddenly showed up? Not like the Rachel Dunlevy thing-your real parents. What would you say to them? What would you want to know?"  
Taking a long breath, the younger man thought for a moment.  
"It's kind of hard to say, Lex. I mean, I've thought about what I would do, and say, but until it actually happened.I guess I'd want to know who they were. What kind of people, I mean. And why they gave me up."  
Lex nodded. "And if they weren't what you expected?"  
For a moment Clark's heart nearly stopped. Of course his parents wouldn't be like other parents. They couldn't be. But he knew that wasn't what Lex meant.  
"I guess I'd still want to know."  
He watched as Lex stood and paced the length of the loft, and waited. He didn't have to wait long.  
"I think I may have located Lucas," Lex said shortly.  
"So he isn't dead?" Clark frowned.  
"I never believed he was. That was just a diversionary tactic. Classic Lionel."  
"Wow." If he lived to be a hundred Clark didn't think he'd ever understand the complicated dynamic of the Luthor father and son. He couldn't believe a parent would ever lie about something so important. He couldn't believe Lionel would have turned his back on his own son. But apparently he'd already done both.  
Lex laughed at the expression on Clark's face.  
"Don't let my father's behavior shock you, Clark. This lie is a little more epic in scale than most of them, but otherwise it's not out of character."  
"I guess not. Have you met him? Your, uh, brother?"  
"Yes. I'll be going into Metropolis tomorrow morning to get the results of the DNA tests. I'm having two independent labs run them, so the answer should be conclusive."  
Lex kept picking up things and then setting them down again as he spoke. Clark couldn't remember ever seeing his friend so uncomfortable.  
"You already sound certain," he suggested.  
"I am." Lex examined some of the photos Clark had tacked to the wall. "For one thing all the facts line up. And he looks too much like my father for it to be a coincidence."  
"So where has he been all this time? Does your father know you've found him?" Clark had a million questions, but those seemed like pretty good ones to start with.  
"Apparently he has been living quite happily with an adoptive family in Central City. A family hand-picked by my father, might I add. It even seems the old man may have periodically dropped in on him to see how he was getting along."  
Clark frowned. "That's pretty creepy."  
"Tell me about it. I'm not sure if the adoptive parents knew who A.J.- that's what they named him-really was. And, no, I haven't yet had the pleasure of telling my father about it. I wanted to have the test results in hand first." Lex smiled grimly. "He thinks he hid him pretty well, but obviously not well enough."  
Clark held up a hand. "Wait a minute, Lex. Is this about your brother, or your father?"  
Lex's smiled faded. "Sorry. Guess I was gloating there for a minute. But it's A.J.'s feelings I'm concerned about, not my father's."  
"About how to tell him? I guess just be direct. You're good at that."  
"I can tell him we're brothers." Lex sat back down. "As you know I kind of like the idea of having a brother. And he seems like a pretty cool kid."  
Grinning, Clark recalled how pleased Lex had been when he'd thought the two of them might be siblings. "I remember."  
"But I don't like the idea of dragging him into the Luthor family, not when my father has refused to even acknowledge his existence. And I don't even know where to begin explaining who is mother is, or the circumstances surrounding his birth."  
Clark shook his head. "He might not even want to know all that-not yet, anyway. He'll have enough to deal with as it is. I know I would, if I were in his shoes. I'm sure, when the time comes, you'll think of something to say." He smiled. "And maybe your dad will change his mind about Lucas and be happy you've met him."  
"Maybe." Lex's expression belied the optimistic word. "Clark, Lionel's done everything he could to keep my brother a secret, and I'm not even sure why. My mother's dead, Rachel Dunlevy's institutionalized. But he still won't admit he knows anything about what happened to Lucas. It's a pretty sordid story to have to tell." He shook his head. "I don't have your eloquence when it come to dealing with people, Clark. And my father sure as hell doesn't."  
"Hey, you found Lucas on your own. It's good news, remember?"  
Clark leaned back on his sofa with a grin. Lex Luthor as big bother. That should be really interesting. ************************************  
  
Catherine tossed aside the copy of the Daily Planet she'd been trying to read all day and glanced at the clock. She hadn't yet gotten used to having a full day off in the middle of the week. As a medical student she had adapted to working long hours, but the down time.  
Glancing around the apartment it was obvious she should devote some of that time to cleaning: the sink was full of dishes and the laundry hamper was overflowing. But she couldn't focus long enough to read a newspaper, and she wasn't in a mood to even attempt housekeeping.  
Thank god A.J. was at school. That would keep his mind off things, for a little while, anyway. The last two days he'd been edgy and out of sorts, but when she'd tried to get him to talk about it he'd just shrugged her off. But she knew he kept wondering what the results of the DNA test would show.  
She had warned her brother that searching for his birth family might prove futile. After all, she had searched for her birth father on and off for years, with no success. It hadn't occurred to her to warn him about turning up unpleasant secrets that might be better off left alone. But the very fact that it was Lex, and not Lionel, Luthor who had approached her told her a great deal about where the two members of Luthor family stood on the issue.  
Her parents had brought A.J. home when he was only a toddler. Like all siblings they had their differences, but Cate would do anything to protect him. So far she felt she'd done a pretty good job, right down to letting him move in when he'd been accepted to Metropolis' elite Dallek School. But she had to admit she now felt completely at sea.  
When she had first told him about Lex Luthor's visit to the hospital, and his suggestion that A.J. might be his half-brother, A.J. had seemed to understand the possible implications.  
"After all," he had told her, "happily married couples don't usually give their kids up for adoption."  
Sadly, A.J. was right-for the Lionel Luthors of the world, the regular rules of morality and fidelity didn't apply. Growing up on the fringes of that world, Catherine had seen the consequences of such behavior first hand in bitter divorces and ugly paternity battles. Fortunately, her mother and Henry had been the rare exception. Amber's second marriage had been blissful as her first had been disastrous, and Henry had been a devoted husband and father. Even now, six years later, Cate could still feel the hole his death in a car accident had left in their family. She had tried to stand in his place, and give the advice she felt he would have, but at moments like this she realized how little her presence could compensate for his absence.  
Seeing Lex Luthor and her brother side by side had been an extremely disorienting experience. There was no strong resemblance, accept in eye color, and that could be pure coincidence. But it had been strange to think this other person might be connected to her brother in a way she, for all their years growing up together, was not.  
And ever stranger to think A.J.'s birth father might have been right there in the shadows, and at times even in their house, all along.  
Catherine left her mug of cold coffee by the sink and went down the short hallway to her room. She had had to move to a bigger apartment so A.J. could have his own room, but at least her trust fund kept her from being a slave to Metropolis' astronomical rents.  
Digging around in the closet she found what she was looking for-her childhood photo album and a shoebox full of unorganized prints. She had optimistically brought the prints with her when she'd moved from Central City, thinking she would find the time to put them all into an album. The reality of working as a first-year resident at a public hospital had soon knocked that idea out of her head.  
Now, however, she carried the album and overstuffed box back into the living room. Curling up on the red sofa she began paging through the album, studying the pictures. She paid careful attention to the photographs taken at parties, or on vacations. As she had told Lex, Catherine could vaguely remember meeting Lionel Luthor a few times, but she hadn't paid him any more attention than any of her stepfather's other business associates. Henry had preferred the informality of conducting business out of his office at home instead of at the main offices of the Bank of Central City downtown. A southerner born and bred, Amber was a famous hostess, and it hadn't been at all unusual for Henry's friends and associates to stay with them in their big and tastefully decorated home.  
But since the album contained mostly photos she'd taken herself, it wasn't very enlightening. She had to laugh at the evolution of her photographic abilities-many of the older shots were out of focus or had cut the heads off their subjects.  
Catherine thought briefly about asking Annie, who was still looking after the house in Central City, to mail her the rest of the family albums, but quickly abandoned the idea. Annie and her husband, Greer, had been part of A.J.'s life from the beginning as well, and there was no way Cate make her request without alarming them and having to do some very awkward explaining.  
Instead she set the one album she had aside and dumped out the shoebox. Pictures and negatives fluttered all around her, since she hadn't bothered to put them in any particular order. Shots of her graduating high school were right next to baby pictures of A.J. She examined them all carefully anyway. Sorting them into chronological piles as best she could, she was halfway though the stack before she found what she was looking for.  
A group of photos appeared to be from one of her mother's summer garden parties, because everyone was in casual dress and drinking what looked like iced tea. She obviously hadn't taken the photos, because she was in several of them, looking extremely uncomfortable in a white sundress. Henry was shaking hands with the mayor and his wife. Other shots showed her parents, and their other guests, and the elaborate buffet tables set up on what appeared to be their back lawn.  
And one shot showed A.J., aged about five, next to a smiling man with long brown hair and a pointed chin.  
Lionel Luthor.  
She heard keys in the lock, and without thinking she hastily stuffed the photo under a sofa cushion.  
A.J. came in, tossing his backpack on the floor, and immediately kicked off his shoes. She didn't bother to scold him, and instead cleared her throat.  
"Hey, I didn't realize it was so late. How was school?"  
A.J. shrugged. "O.k., I guess." He leaned on the back of the sofa and glanced over her shoulder.  
"What are you doing?"  
Cate shrugged. "Just.looking, I guess. Maybe I was feeling a little nostalgic. Under the circumstances."  
Instead of getting angry at the oblique reference, A.J. smiled sadly. "Yeah, I guess I've been feeling kinda the same way. I've been trying to remember anything I can about my early childhood. It seems weird that I could have had this whole other life and not remember any of it."  
His sister looked at him closely. "And?"  
A.J. sat down next to her and propped his long legs on the coffee table.  
"And my first memories are the same as always: Dad carrying me piggyback; you playing with me in the yard. I can't think of anything that suggests I might have been this kid, Lucas." He frowned. "Lucas. Ugh. I don't even like that name."  
"Even if you are-were-him, you would have been too young to remember anything," his sister consoled. She thought guiltily of the hidden picture. It was the kind of thing she'd been looking for, and yet strangely she felt no urge to reveal it. In fact, she wished with all her heart she hadn't found it.  
Her brother pushed his hair out of his eyes. She'd been bugging him about getting a haircut, but he hadn't done it yet. He'd had the prettiest blond hair as a baby, almost as fair as her own, but it had rapidly darkened to brown. Brown like the man in the photograph. She shifted uncomfortably.  
"I wish we could get a hold of Mom," A.J. continued. "She might know something we don't."  
Relieved at the change of subject, Catherine shook her head.  
"Amber has always encouraged you to look for your birth parents some day. Just like she did with me and my father. If she had a bombshell like this she wouldn't have kept it a secret." Cate grinned. "But if it would make you feel better you can grill her again the next time she calls from Rangoon or Bangkok or wherever she's trying to 'find herself' at the moment."  
"Yeah, I guess you're right," A.J. sighed. "I'm going to have to wait awhile for my answers, huh?"  
"Maybe." Then and there she made a quick vow not to show A.J. the photograph until they knew for sure. Until he-and she-knew what they were up against.  
She forced a smile. "But look at it this way--at least Lex Luthor has given you a shot at getting those answers."  
Catherine could only hope that those answers didn't end up breaking her brother's heart. Or worse. **************************************  
  
Lex stopped his Porsche at the curb and glanced up at the brick building where A.J. and his sister lived. It was a far cry from his penthouse, but pots of flowers on the front steps made it look cheerful. The quiet, tree- lined neighborhood of houses and apartment buildings struck him as the sort of place that would be big on lawn care. PTA meetings. That sort of thing.  
He grabbed an envelope off the passenger seat and got out of the car. Double-checking the address the hospital had given him, he entered the building and went up the stairs to the second floor. He wondered idly why Catherine Carter hadn't chosen a more glamorous address. She was heir to a considerable fortune, both through the Carter family and from her birth father's family, and A.J. had a substantial trust fund of his own. Lionel had made certain that Lucas would never hurt for money.  
At his knock the door swung open, and Catherine's face appeared.  
"Oh, Mr. Luthor, hello."  
He smiled. "It's Lex, please. I would have called, but, well." He held up the envelope.  
She instantly recognized what he meant.  
"Of course. Come in."  
The apartment was spacious. It had been decorated with a mix of old and new furniture, photographs, and pieces of art. The effect should have been cluttered, but he found it rather charming. Of course, every place he'd ever lived had been carefully coordinated by expensive decorators. But he'd learned living in Smallville that real homes seldom looked like the pictures in magazines.  
In the tiny dinning alcove, A.J. looked up from the piles of towels he was folding and frowned.  
"Saturday's laundry day around here," Cate explained with a wry smile. "A.J., leave that for a moment, and come here, ok?"  
Brother and sister stood together by the sofa, and Catherine nodded for Lex to proceed.  
"A.J., I have the test results here." Lex offered the boy the envelope.  
"You got them on a Saturday?" Catherine raised her eyebrows. "Money really does talk, I guess." Then she glanced at Lex's expression, and winced. "Sorry-that was uncalled for."  
"It's all right."  
The younger Carter shifted uncomfortably, eying the envelope as if it contained a live snake.  
"Do you know what it says?"  
"No. I thought we should find out at the same time."  
The boy brushed his hair out of his face. "That's fair, I guess." He took the envelope and broke the seal, removing a single folded sheet of paper.  
Lex and Catherine watched while he read it over. A.J.'s expression didn't change, except for a slight tightening of the skin around his eyes.  
"What does it say?" His sister demanded.  
The boy cleared his throat, and then neatly folded the paper back up.  
"Congratulations-it's a boy."  
Lex hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until that moment. He did his best to smile as he processed the information.  
"Well, now we know, don't we?"  
A.J. looked at his shoes. "Yeah, we do."  
It was the moment Lex had hoped for, but now that it had arrived.What should he say to A.J.? His only experience with having a sibling had been his baby brother, Julian. But Julian had been only three months old when he'd died, not really a person in the true sense of the word. A.J. was already a teenager, a teenager with his own family, his own friends, his own mind. Where would they even start?  
Catherine seemed to read his mind, because she smiled gently.  
"You know, I think that other load of laundry should be done about now- I'd better get down to the basement before someone swipes it."  
A.J. looked at her rather desperately, but she grabbed the laundry basket and her keys and closed the front door firmly behind her.  
"She's subtle, isn't she?" Lex asked.  
The broke the ice a little-A.J. smiled.  
"Look, A.J., I don't really know what do here," Lex admitted.  
"I don't either," the younger man smiled sheepishly. "So, um, do you want some coffee? It's the one thing I know how to make."  
Lex smiled. "Coffee would be fine." 


	4. ch 4

A.J. would never have considered accepting Lex's invitation to Smallville if Lionel was there. But now, as he looked out the window as acres after acre of cornfields zipped by, he had to admit he was looking forward to it. Over the phone Lex had assured him Lionel had left for Metropolis that morning, and from there was heading to London to meet with doctors.  
He hadn't been in a limousine in years, and he'd forgotten how nice they were. Especially on a long trip. He leaned back on the plush seat and took a swig of the soda he'd found in the mini-fridge. Obviously the Luthors had had a little bit of customizing done, because there was also a television and a phone built into the console.  
Well, when his brother did things, they were never halfway-he'd been learning that. The handful of times they'd gone to lunch, Lex had always arrived in one or another of his expensive cars and they'd always gotten the best table. It made A.J. wonder if maybe he wasn't wasting his money, letting it sit in a trust fund until he was twenty-one. But then, that had been his parents decision, not his own.  
His parents. A.J. sighed. He still hadn't worked up enough courage to ask Lex for more details on his birth mother, and his mom hadn't had much more to tell him than Catherine had. Over a crackly long-distance phone line she'd only insisted she'd had no idea who either of them were, and expressed incredulity that he was related to the Luthors. He got the feeling Amber didn't have a very high opinion of Lionel Luthor, and wasn't too pleased with the results of her son's DNA test. She'd offered to come home, and it had taken the combined assurances of A.J. and Catherine to convince her that wasn't necessary.  
Then there was the problem with the Luthors themselves. Lex had explained that finding his brother had been his own idea, not his father's. In fact, Lex had seemed to take a peculiar sort of pride that he hadn't yet shared the news with Lionel.  
A.J. wondered what would happen when Lex's father did find out what his son had been up to, but truth be told he didn't really care. The more he thought about Lionel, the more determined he was not to have anything to do with him. It wasn't just because A.J. had been close to Henry Carter. It was also because he didn't think much of a man who'd pass off his illegitimate child for his friend to raise, and then lie to his son about where that child was. He was a little ashamed to admit it, but he couldn't even muster any sympathy for Lionel for going blind.  
Of course Lionel probably wishes I was dead, he thought grimly to himself, so maybe what he told Lex wasn't entirely a lie.  
The limo turned off the road and paused before a high gate. A security guard waved them through and they drove up a shady, tree-lined avenue. As they slowed to turn in to a circular drive, A.J. peered up at his brother's home. It made the huge house he'd grown up in look like a studio apartment. It also looked cold and gloomy, even against the blue Kansas sky.  
Fortunately Lex was waiting for him in the stone entryway, and smiled as the car stopped and the driver opened A.J.s door.  
"Glad you could make it." He glanced at his watch. "Two hours, forty minutes-record time from Metropolis. For the limo, anyway."  
"But you've done it faster, right?" A.J. grinned.  
"Maybe. Where are your bags?"  
The younger man pointed at the overstuffed backpack slung on his shoulder. "This is it. I only have a week's break from school," he offered at Lex's skeptical look. "How many times will I need to change clothes? You didn't say you dress for dinner or anything."  
"I don't," his brother laughed. "But if worse to comes to worse I can loan you a tux."  
"There's nothing I love more than wearing a tux," A.J. retorted. "Hey, nice house, by the way."  
He followed Lex through the heavy oak doors and into a cavernous hallway. He'd been right-it was cold. Oil portraits of depressing looking people starred down from the walls, and a suit of armor stood guard at the bottom of a massive staircase.  
"So where's Quasimoto?"  
"He's in the dungeon with Frankenstein's monster," Lex grinned. "C'mon, I'll show you upstairs. And stick close so you don't get lost."  
"Don't worry," he assured his brother. "I've got a great sense of direction. And I really hope you were kidding about the dungeon."  
Lex only smiled.  
"I told the housekeeper to put you in the east wing; that's pretty much the only part of the upstairs I use. Of course, my father keeps a suite of rooms in the north wing."  
"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, huh?"  
"Not in our case, I'm afraid." Lex paused in front of a paneled door and opened it, stepping into a spacious room decorated in red. "How's this?"  
A.J. gingerly set his backpack down on the oriental carpet. "Fine, I guess. Uh, where are you?"  
Lex laughed. "Fourth door down, on the left. Why don't you leave your things here; the servants will unpack for you. We'll go down to the library and shot some pool."  
"You don't have to work?" A.J. knew Lex was trying to establish his own business. His brother talked about LexCorp the way other people might talk about a new baby, even though so far it only consisted of one fertilizer factory. Lex hadn't admitted it, but A.J. had a feeling this, too, was tied up in his relationship with Lionel.  
"No, I'm taking some time off," Lex assured him.  
"Look, don't let me disrupt your routine or anything," A.J. said as he followed Lex back down the stairs. "Catherine's only condition for this visit is that I don't make a nuisance of myself."  
"Don't worry about it. I promised her I'd take good care of you."  
"'Take care of me'? That makes it sound like I'm six years old."  
The library turned out to be a large space, open to a second floor gallery and dominated by stained glass windows. In the center of one window, he couldn't help but notice, someone had embedded the letter "L."  
"Nice touch. Very.medieval." A.J. offered.  
"This is the oldest part of the house--seventeenth century, supposedly. Of course Lionel had a lot of it modified when he moved it here," Lex explained when he noticed A.J.'s frown. "If you believe him, this is my- our-ancestral home."  
His brother sighed. "Lex, I won't lie to you, I'm still a little weirded out by this whole thing. And being here."  
"Doesn't help. I know." Lex took two pool cues down from the custom- made wall rack. "Just think of it as staying in an expensive, drafty hotel. That's what I do."  
He held out a cue to his younger brother with a smile. "Now, do you want stripes or solids?" ****************************************  
  
"We need to come up with something sharp for next week's headline, guys," Chloe said as she leaned back in her chair. "'Lunch menu follows new nutritional guidelines'" just isn't going to cut it."  
Clark rolled his eyes and took a sip of his latte. Chloe had decided to hold their twice-weekly staff meeting in the Talon so they could all refuel on caffeine before heading back to the office. But the news was the same.  
"Nothing's shaking in town, Chloe," Pete answered. "For once we get five minutes of peace and quiet around here and you're complaining?"  
"I'm only thinking of the good of the paper," Chloe retorted. "We have a reputation to uphold."  
Clark didn't bother adding that the reputation was based largely around Chloe's meteor theories and the strange things that happened in town. It wasn't exactly Daily Planet material, although Chloe always had lots of facts to back up her stories. Stories that, unfortunately, sometimes got a little too close for comfort, like her digging into his adoption. He'd forgiven her for that, knowing she'd only wanted to help. But it still served as a useful reminder about being careful.  
"Maybe Principal Reynolds is right and we should tone things down a little," Clark offered. "Most other high school papers don't feature investigative journalism as part of the regular routine."  
"Clark, just because Reynolds has been on your case doesn't mean I'm going to turn the Torch into one of those bland teen rags that only report on the new cheerleaders' uniforms. The Torch is the one source of honest news in this burg, and it's our duty as the fourth estate to keep providing it."  
"We could maybe do a follow-up," Pete suggested. "Revisit one of our past stories as a sort of 'where-are-they-now.'"  
"I wouldn't want to be redundant." Chloe chewed on the tip of her pencil. "But that might work." She tried to flag down Lana, who was serving customers behind the bar.  
"How about covering the tornado? You know, what's been rebuilt, what hasn't?" Clark offered.  
"Snooze fest, man," Pete shook his head. "We need something flashier than that."  
"Hey, I'm open to suggestions," Cark shrugged.  
Chloe made another attempt to attract Lana's attention, and finally gave up and stood. "I'm in serious need of a refill. You guys want anything?"  
When they shook their heads she grabbed her mug and whirled around to head for the counter. As usual, however, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and promptly collided with another patron. A tidal wave of coffee sloshed out of his cup and over his hand.  
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Chloe grabbed some napkins from their table and frantically dabbed at the young man's hand. "Did you get burned?"  
The boy smiled. Clark hadn't seen him around before, but something about that smile seemed vaguely familiar.  
"No. Fortunately for you it was iced coffee. Or else I'd have to sue," he laughed.  
Chloe turned a becoming shade of pink. "I really am sorry. Let me buy you another one." She waved at Lana again, and this time the other girl saw her and hurried over.  
"Is something wrong?"  
"No." the boy started, but Chloe quickly interrupted him.  
"Lana, would you get him another iced coffee? I just spilled it all over him."  
Lana eyed the black liquid splashed on the table and floor. "Sure. I'll get some more napkins, too. That was black with sugar, right?"  
"Yeah, but you don't have to."  
But Lana had already left.  
"You've got to be quicker than that around here," Pete counseled. "Or these women will run right over you."  
Chloe smiled at the newcomer. "Don't listen to him; Pete's always joking. I'm Chloe, and that's Clark over there."  
"I'm A.J."  
Clark instantly recognized the name, but fortunately Chloe knew nothing about the story. She only made a face.  
"A.J. like the Backstreet Boy?"  
"No, A.J. like my grandfather. Andrew, actually, but nobody calls me that."  
"Hey, why don't you sit down?" Clark pulled out the chair next to him. "Unless you need to be somewhere."  
"No, just killing some time 'til my ride shows up." A.J. accepted the chair, and Clark took a moment to examine him surreptitiously. He didn't look much like Lex, except around the eyes, but his smile had did remind Clark of his friend. As Lex had said, the boy did look like Lionel Luthor. Enough so that seeing them side-by-side would probably be enough for anyone to figure out their connection.  
Clark hastily cleared his throat as Lana reappeared with fresh coffee. "Hey, Lana, how are things?"  
She gave him that radiant smile that always turned his stomach upside down. "Good, Clark. Business is up again, as you can see."  
"Don't let them run you off your feet, Lana," Pete counseled. "Happiness before profit, right?"  
"Tell that to Lex," Lana laughed. "I'd better get back to the counter; I'll talk to you guys later."  
"Keeping the Talon going means a lot to Lana," Chloe explained for A.J.'s benefit. "It was kind of her idea and she's worked really hard to keep it going."  
"But Lex Luthor put up the money." Pete got the same expression he always had when speaking of the Luthors-as if he smelled something unpleasant. "You know who he is, right?"  
Clark looked fearfully at the newcomer, but A.J. only smiled and sipped his drink.  
"I do, actually. That's who I'm staying with here."  
Chloe looked at him curiously. "Yeah? How do you know each other?"  
Clark seriously considered speeding across the room and pulling the fire alarm to put an end to Chloe's line of questioning, but A.J. answered calmly.  
"Our fathers know each other."  
"Oh." Chloe smiled. Pete looked like he wished he could slide his chair further away from A.J. out of sheer principle.  
"So you're from Metropolis, then?" Chloe took a sip of her drink. "I'm from there, too."  
"Yes and no. I've only lived in Metropolis a few months; I grew up in Central City."  
"Ah, the Great White North," she joked.  
A.J. grinned at her.  
"It isn't really that cold. At least, most of the time it isn't. Being on the lake can make it seem colder than it is."  
"Where do you go to school?"  
"Are we playing twenty questions?"  
"I'm a journalist. I like to know things."  
"Yeah? Where do you work?"  
"The Smallville Torch, best high school paper in town."  
"Only one, too," Pete interjected. He was still radiating hostility, and the longer A.J. talked to Chloe the more irritated he seemed to get.  
"I go to a place called the Dallek School," the other boy offered. "Ever heard of it?"  
Chloe whistled. "Sure. One of the kids on my old block used to go there. But you have to be, like, a genius to get in. Did you have to take an IQ test?"  
A.J. ducked his head a little, clearly embarrassed by the line of questioning.  
"Of course not. Those are totally unreliable. But I had to go through a couple of rounds of interviews, and even then I only got in this year."  
"But you got in," Clark said. "That's pretty cool. So, um, where is Lex?" Clark knew so far the two had limited their contact to phone calls and a few lunches. He was more than a little surprised that Lex had taken the risk of bringing A.J. to Smallville. But then his mom always said Lex had the soul of a gambler.  
"At the plant," the boy explained. "He lasted about a day and a half without checking in, so I told him to just drop me downtown and come and get me later. I didn't expect to find such a nice way to kill time, though."  
He smiled, and Chloe blushed again.  
Pete stood abruptly and grabbed his jacket. "I forgot-I promised my mom I'd swing by the courthouse and help her out for awhile."  
"Now? Pete, you haven't even finished your coffee," Clark frowned.  
"Suddenly I'm not very thirsty anymore. I'll catch up with you guys later at the Torch." Pete grabbed his backpack and turned on his heel, leaving Chloe gapping after him.  
"Wow, wonder what got into him all of a sudden?" She quickly turned her attention back to A.J. "So tell me more about your school. It must be awesome."  
As the other two talked about school and about Metropolis, Clark finished his own drink gloomily. He had a pretty good feeling what had made Pete so angry. Pete had grown up hating the Luthors, and by proxy people who associated with them. And to see Chloe hanging on A.J.s every word the way she was must have been more than he could take. The Ross family had good reason for feeling the way they did, but Clark still hated to see his oldest friend get so upset.  
He was just glad Pete didn't know who A.J. really was. Then things might have really gotten ugly.  
  
**********************************************  
In the reflection of the aquarium Catherine Carter smoothed her lapel. The invitation had been unexpected, to see the least, but at least she'd had a proper suit jacket in her locker to throw on.  
The LuthorCorp offices were about what she would have expected: all polished granite and glass, just like the tower that housed them. The aquarium she couldn't quite account for, unless the decorator had thought it would make people more relaxed as they waited to be summoned into the inner sanctum. She couldn't really say it was working for her. And, surely, sharks would have been more appropriate than the multi-colored tropical fish now swimming mindlessly in their floor-to-ceiling enclosure.  
"Dr. Carter? Mr. Luthor will see you now."  
A thin man in an expensive looking suit stood holding the door open for her, and she reluctantly followed his summons.  
The spacious office was done in tasteful shades of blue and gray, with a breathtaking vista of downtown Metropolis outside the glass windows. A desk sat on one side, with chairs in front of it, but the room also boasted an expensive antique settee and two matching chairs, carefully coordinated into the room's color scheme.  
Lionel Luthor sat in one of the two chairs, and she was shown to the other one.  
Luthor himself rose, leaning only slightly on his cane.  
"Dr. Carter, so glad you could come on such short notice." He held out a hand, and Catherine shook it politely. She took a moment to study him. He didn't look very different from what she remembered, although there was now gray in his beard and in his long hair. Dark glasses covered his wounded eyes. She knew the lack of eye movement that could follow total or partial blindness often distracted and upset sighted people; this was probably why Lionel had opted for the glasses. To at once cover his injury and enhance his competitive edge.  
"Please, sit down. Charles, would you bring in the tea, please?"  
"Yes, Mr. Luthor." The cadaverous looking servant hurried away.  
"I hope Darjeeling will be all right," Luthor said with a smile as he resumed his seat. But he didn't give her a chance to answer. "It's been a very long time, hasn't it? The last time we met must have been at your stepfather's funeral."  
Catherine sat down as well. "That's right."  
"I'm told you look a great deal like your mother. She was a very beautiful woman."  
"She still is," Cate corrected.  
The servant reappeared with a bone china tea set on a tray. He laid out the teapot and all the accoutrements on a spindly-legged Louis XIV table next to the settee.  
"And do you ever hear from your father?" Her host asked as he was given a cup of steaming brew.  
"Milk or lemon, miss?" The cadaver asked.  
"Neither, thank you." She reluctantly accepted a dainty cup. "And, no, I don't." She knew Luthor was needling her on purpose, but to what end she wasn't quite sure.  
But, as they said, the best defense was a good offense.  
"Since you don't seem to have any qualms about asking me very personal questions, Mr. Luthor, let me ask you one. Did Henry know A.J. was your son?"  
Luthor only smiled, and waved away the servant with his free hand. The other man promptly disappeared through a door at the far end of the room.  
"You're direct, aren't you? Something else you got from your mother. I must confess I always found Amber rather lacking in tact."  
Catherine sipped her tea. "You didn't answer my question." She'd known men like Lionel Luthor her whole life, and she wasn't about to be intimidated by him.  
Lionel smiled again.  
"What do you think?"  
She was thoughtful for a long moment.  
"I don't think he did. He might have suspected it, but if he'd known for sure he would have told Amber. And sooner or later Amber would have told me."  
Luthor drank his tea in enigmatic silence.  
"I suppose you asked me here to discuss the situation with A.J."  
"In a manner of speaking." Lionel set his cup down on the side table, carefully feeling for the edge so the cup wouldn't fall on the Aubusson carpet. "I understand you've been permitting your brother to spend time with my son."  
Cate leaned back in the uncomfortable chair as best she could. "I have. They want to get to know each other. I don't see any harm in it."  
"Ah, but there may be a great deal of harm in it, Dr. Carter. I'm afraid Alexander is, well, shall we say, unlikely to be a good influence on him." He rose and moved with confidence across what must be, to him, a familiar room, and stood facing the warm sun from the windows.  
Catherine shook her head. "Mr. Luthor, I had to leave work to be here. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't be so cryptic."  
Lionel folded his hands behind his back. "You may not believe this, but I considered your stepfather my friend. I know he thought very highly of you, and I'm sure you and your mother have done your best to raise Andrew as Henry would have wanted. I would hate to see Lex's irresponsible behavior undermine that." He moved back across the room to where she sat.  
  
"Dr. Carter, my son has spent most of his life getting into trouble. Only my considerable influence has kept him from the consequences of his actions."  
Cate set down her cup and took a deep breath.  
"What kind of trouble?"  
Smiling, Luthor gestured to the teapot.  
"Pour us both another cup, my dear, and I'll tell you." **************************************************  
  
Gabe Sullivan tucked his clipboard under his arm and stepped out into the gloomy sunshine. Around him, Lex Corp Plant No. 3, housed in its complex of buildings, hummed. He hadn't quite gotten used to the new name and logo, but he reckoned it would grow on him. The important thing was, he still had a job. And so did the several hundred other people who either worked in the plant or were directly dependant on it.  
He checked to make sure the latest shipment of nitrates was on the loading dock. A dozen or so men were transferring the bags onto wooden pallets. It would take a small army of forklifts to move the bags down to the manufacturing part of the complex.  
Gabe grinned. Most people thought fertilizer was just glorified animal offal. Maybe thirty years ago it had been, but now it was more high-tech chemicals than organic material. After all, that was why Lionel Luthor, the so-called "Pesticide King," had gotten into the business in the first place-it had been a convenient and profitable outlet for chemicals his other subsidiaries already produced. But handling those chemicals took a skilled and aware workforce, if accidents were to be avoided.  
"Take it easy there," he advised one man as he heaved a bag onto the pallet. "Watch your back-we don't need any workman's comp claims around here."  
"Ain't that the truth," another worker, Casey, smiled.  
Gabe glanced around him and frowned.  
"Where's Jim Winters? He's transportation foreman; he should be supervising the move."  
"Jim's in the bathroom, boss. Thinks it was something he ate," one of the other employees said with a grin.  
A moment later, however, Winters himself appeared, looking pale and a little shaky.  
"Jim, how are you feeling? I gotta say, you don't look too good."  
"I'm fine, Gabe. Just a touch of something. It'll pass in a minute. Probably overdoing it on the new house, is all."  
His supervisor frowned. "Well, if you get to feeling worse, go to the dispensary. Moving these bags isn't as important as your health." He thumbed through the papers on the clipboard. "I'd better get these rec forms up to Mr. Luthor."  
"Is he here? Thought the dude was finally taking some time off," Casey complained.  
"He's only in for an hour or two, just to check on things," Gabe explained cheerfully. Any other man would probably resent a boss who was around so much, but it wasn't in Gabe's nature to complain. And Lex Luthor actually listened to his suggestions, which was more than Lionel Luthor had ever done.  
Gabe headed back to the main building that housed the offices, as far away from the chemical storage as was possible. The loading crew went back to work, but in minutes it became clear Jim wasn't fit to work. He leaned against the edge of the loading dock, breathing hard.  
One of his men reached out to touch his clammy hand.  
"Jim, you're ice cold. Man, we'd better get you inside."  
The other man shook his head, as if to clear it.  
"No, I was fine this morning," he gasped. "I.I."  
While the other men looked on in horror, he slumped to the ground.  
Casey rushed to his side, waving frantically at the others.  
"Someone call 911-it must be a heart attack."  
Casey rolled his friend onto his back, and recoiled in horror. Jim's face had turned a pale white, but the skin around his lips was blue. His eyes were open, and he looked up at him with stark terror written across his face.  
"Hang on, buddy," one of the other men counseled as he kneeled next to his prone friend. "Eddie's calling the ambulance."  
It seemed an eternity before the emergency crew arrived. Casey briefed the paramedics and helped load his friend into the back. They had to push through a crowd of curious LexCorp employees that had gathered around them.  
"Call.Molly." Jim whispered to his friend.  
"I'll have her meet you at the hospital," Casey promised. He stood back as the ambulance doors were slammed shut.  
Gabe Sullivan, who had hurried out from his office at the sound of the sirens, clapped him on the back. "I'm sure he'll be fine."  
Casey shook his head. He wasn't usually a fanciful kind of person, but something about the metallic clang of those doors closing had seemed horribly final.  
It was a weekday, and with lights flashing and siren blaring they were able to make it to Smallville General in record time. Jim was rushed into the small emergency room.  
"Male.forty-six years old.collapsed at work.possible heart attack." the paramedic reported as the attending physician and the nurses quickly went to work, attaching monitors and checking his responses.  
A doctor leaned over him to try and attach an IV, and Jim's hand twisted in the fabric of her white coat.  
"Help.me.can't.breathe."  
Jim's eyes moved to from her face to the ceiling and back again frantically.  
Suddenly his back arched as his body went rigid, and then he was still.  
"He's stopped breathing," someone said.  
As the monitors shrieked, the doctor felt for a pulse, but found nothing. She laid a hand on the man's jaw to open his mouth, and as she did so greenish black fluid poured out. What seemed to be gallons of the foul-smelling stuff ran out of Jim's mouth to pool on around his body and onto the floor as she instinctively stepped away.  
"What in the.?" She looked helplessly at the other hospital staff.  
One of the nurses shook his head.  
"I've never seen anything like that, man."  
"What if it's contagious?" someone else whispered.  
"We have to keep working on him."  
The doctor shouted out orders, but her staff was too afraid to move. Finally someone grabbed the paddles and they attempted to shock his heart back into motion. The effort proved futile; none of their attempts budged the flat green line on the monitor.  
The doctor stepped back with a sigh, thankful her latex gloves had been between her and the viscous black fluid.  
"Whatever it was, it sure wasn't a heart attack," she announced to no one in particular.  
The staff looked silently at each other.  
"Where did you bring him in from?" One of the nurses asked the paramedic.  
The young man tore his eyes away from the body.  
"The LuthorCorp plant. Or whatever it's called now."  
The attending physician nodded grimly. "All right, let's get Dr. Evans down here ASAP. Tell him we've got a situation on our hands." 


	5. ch 5

"Gabe. Thank you for coming on such short notice." Lex rose for his desk and shook hands with his plant manager. "I'm sorry I dragged you away from dinner."  
"That's all right, Mr. Luthor-I had just picked up Chloe from the Torch when you called. I hope you don't mind that I brought her with me, but we were on our way home."  
"It's fine, Gabe-A.J. will look after her. Have you heard anything?"  
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Luthor," the older man sighed. "I still can't believe he's gone. He was a fine man, a hard worker."  
Lex rubbed his eyes.  
"I spent most of the day on the phone with both Smallville General and my lawyers in Metropolis. Neither one would tell me much. But a source told me that the hospital's calling in the Environmental Protection Agency."  
Gabe sat down heavily. "The EPA? Why?"  
"Apparently something about Winters' death raised the suspicions of the medical staff. Gabe, what was Winters working on at the time of his death?"  
"Off loading that new shipment of phosphates from Star City. Something he'd done a million times before."  
"And before that?"  
"Well, I'd have to check the assignment sheets, but I think he was working on cleaning out Level 3. Removing those empty drums left behind." Gabe raised his eyebrows. "But a half a dozen or so men have been working down there, when we could spare them."  
Sullivan was still a little humiliated that LuthorCorp had been able to conduct experiments on Level 3 without his finding out about. If it hadn't been for Earl Jenkins seizing control of the plant and taking hostages, those experiments would never have come to light.  
His employer seemed to read his mind.  
"We still don't know exactly what LuthorCorp was working on down there."  
"But could it have been something dangerous?"  
Lex smiled mirthlessly.  
"Remember what it did to Earl Jenkins."  
Gabe leaned his head in his hands. "So what do we do?"  
Lex walked over to the widow, looking out into the night.  
"Right now all we can do is wait. Until either the hospital or the EPA tells us what happened. The important thing is to keep the plant going."  
"Folks really liked Jim. He was part of LuthorCorp for thirteen years. And dying the way he did."Gabe shook his head. "It's going to be hard for folks not to worry."  
"But that's exactly what we've got to prevent," Lex said firmly. "No speculation. We have no reason to believe anyone else is at any risk. First thing tomorrow morning I'm going to call a meeting and explain the situation as best we understand it."  
"I think that's a good idea, Mr. Luthor. It will sound better coming from you than from me, anyway."  
"And make sure the Winters' family knows LexCorp's health insurance will pay any bills from the hospital."  
Gabe nodded. "I haven't had a chance to pay my respects to Molly Winters. I know the Kent's and Dr. MacIntrye's widow have been looking after her."  
"She's in good hands, then."  
Lex stared out the window for a long moment.  
"Don't worry, Mr. Luthor. I'm sure the EPA will clear us of any wrongdoing," Gabe said with a bravado he didn't quite feel.  
His employer regarded him seriously.  
"I certainly hope you're right, Gabe. For all our sakes."  
Outside the closed library door, Chloe frowned. It was pretty tough to hear through the thick oak, but what she had made out wasn't good news.  
"Chloe?"  
She jumped, and turned around with a sheepish smile.  
"Oh, hey, A.J."  
"I thought you were still in the TV room." He held out a glass mug topped with whipped cream. "Here's your hot chocolate."  
"Thanks. I was just, um."  
A.J. grinned.  
"You were eavesdropping on Lex and your dad. You know, you could have just said that's what you wanted to do and saved me a trip to the kitchen. It's quite a hike, you know."  
"No, really, I wanted the drink." To prove it she took the cup and drank deeply from it. "Actually, I'm starved; my dad and I were arguing over what to have for dinner when Lex called him." "Yeah, my sister and I do the same thing. We'd take turns cooking, but neither of us are very good at it."  
A.J. nodded his head at the door.  
"Hear anything interesting?"  
"Just that LexCorp might be in trouble."  
"What kind of trouble?" A.J. frowned as the two of them walked back down the hall to the television room. The wide screen was still flickering a re-run of an old TV show, but A.J. turned the sound off.  
"Mysterious deaths always attract attention," Chloe explained. "Especially around here."  
"Because you get a lot of them."  
Chloe smiled. "Lex has filled you in, I see."  
"Only a little. I checked out your website, too."  
"My professional life is an open book I see. What did you think of my meteor theory?"  
A.J. took a swig of his own drink.  
"Truthfully? I think it's a little far fetched." He held up his empty hand before she could protest. "But, remember, I'm not from here. Lex seems to think you have something, though, so who am I to doubt you?"  
"I appreciate that, I guess," the girl smiled. "Believe me, if you spend much more time in Smallville you'll start looking for a theory, too."  
A.J. frowned again.  
"Do you really think Lex's business could be blamed for what's happened? LexCorp is all he ever talks about-I can't believe he'd let an employee get hurt if there was any way he could prevent it."  
"I hope it isn't," Chloe sighed. "But it's too early to know." She was thoughtful for a moment. "Hey, you said your sister's a doctor, right?"  
"A resident, yes." A.J. flopped back down on the leather sofa.  
"Why would a doctor call in the EPA over a death?"  
"Well, it's hard to say. I know hospitals are required by law to report any suspicious deaths or injuries. Catherine's had to call in Social Services, and sometimes the police, and she's been called to testify in court, too. I guess if a death seemed like it might be connected to some kind of contamination, you'd call the EPA."  
Chloe sat down, too. "Wow. Poor Mr. Winters."  
"Did you know him?"  
"No, but his son graduated from Smallville High two years ago. Brody Winters was a football star, class president-everyone knew him."  
A.J. 's eyes grew distant. "It'll be hard for him, losing his dad like that."  
Recognizing the emotion in his voice, Chloe bit her lip.  
"Geez, I'm sorry. I thought when you said your dad knew Lex's dad."  
"Don't worry about," he said hastily. "My dad died when I was ten. In an accident, too, strangely enough."  
"I really am sorry." Chloe regarded him steadily. "Sometimes my reporter's instincts don't work very well and I end up sticking my foot in my mouth."  
A.J. laughed.  
"Hey, at least you're focused on something, you know? I think what you're doing is really cool."  
Chloe ducked her head a little. "You do?"  
"I do." A.J. nodded. "I really do. Even if it means you listen at doors," he smiled. ******************************  
  
Later that evening, after Mr. Sullivan and Chloe had gone home, A.J. went back into the library.  
"I hope Chloe didn't bother you," Lex told him. He had his feet up on his desk and was idly sipping from a glass of amber liquor. "I like Chloe, I really do, but I had to speak to Gabe Sullivan privately."  
A.J. picked up a letter opener, weighing it in the palm of his hand. "Not a problem. I like her, too."  
At his brother's raised eyebrows, A.J. shook his head.  
"That's not what I mean."  
Lex only smiled.  
A.J. tossed the opener back on the desk and grabbed a chair.  
"Lex, listen. Maybe it would be easier for you right now if I wasn't around."  
"Are you unhappy here?"  
A.J. leaned back and sighed. "Don't be deliberately obtuse. Surprisingly, I'm actually kind of enjoying myself. Between the big-screen TV. and not having to make my bed in the morning it's pretty sweet. But if LexCorp is in trouble."  
"LexCorp isn't in trouble, A.J." Lex interrupted. "It's just a minor setback, that's all."  
Staring into the fire, A.J. wondered why Lex was so determined not to show any concern. He looked absolutely blasé, sitting there as if he hadn't a care in the world, when in actuality he might very soon be embroiled in some very ugly legal troubles. In the Carter family, honesty always prevailed; sometimes a little too much of it, actually. His mother and father had insisted upon it, however, and A.J. had never really learned to conceal his own feelings and worries. He'd never had to. The Luthors, however, obviously valued a show of strength over acknowledging their troubles.  
"Look, I just want you to know that if you'd feel you'd rather concentrate on.other things right now I'd understand," A.J. said quietly. "We could visit another time."  
Lex stood abruptly. "No, you're staying until your sister comes and gets you on Sunday. I insist."  
"Fine." A.J. slouched back in his chair. It still seemed strange to him that the man in front of him was his brother. For all his personality quirks, A.J. liked Lex. He liked his confidence, his sharp intellect, his black sense of humor. Those things A.J. felt the two of them had in common. But the rest of the time A.J. was sharply reminded that Lex's upbringing had been very different from his own. He didn't know if he'd ever truly understand how Lex's mind worked, what went on behind his older brother's blue eyes.  
And maybe it wasn't his place to know that, really. If Lex didn't care to show his emotions, that was his business.  
But A.J. felt he still had a right to worry for him. He sincerely hoped his brother wasn't in as much trouble as Chloe Sullivan seemed to think he might be.  
  
***************************************  
  
"It was the hospital that called in the Environmental Protection Agency. Apparently they tried the Centers for Disease Control first but they had no idea what it might be. So they're thinking it was some kind of environmental contamination," Chloe explained as she and Clark walked into the Talon.  
"This is according to your source?"  
"According to my source," she grinned. "There's Pete sitting with Lana. Let's go."  
"Hi, guys," Lana greeted them. "We were just talking about what happened. Have you heard anything new?"  
"She's Chloe-of course she's heard something new," Pete scoffed.  
Never one to need prompting, Chloe quickly filled them in on what she had learned.  
"So it sounds like whatever killed Mr. Winters might be linked to LuthorCorp. Or LexCorp, as it is now."  
"Wouldn't be the first time," Pete said thoughtfully. "Lionel Luthor's paid out a lot of money in fines for environmental contamination over the years."  
"If that's the case, why hasn't he been put out of business?" Clark asked.  
"Because no one's been able to make any serious charged stick," Chloe explained.  
"Only now Lex owns the plant, and he might have to take the blame for whatever happened," Lana said grimly.  
"My dad says everyone over there is completely freaked out. They're afraid whatever killed Mr. Winters might be contagious." Chloe frowned, clearly thinking of her father. "God, I hope not."  
"So, the EPA will come in and find out what happened and clear LexCorp of any wrong doing." Clark looked hopefully around the table. "Right?"  
"If you believe that you're really naïve," Pete shook his head. "If the EPA wasn't already in the Luthor's pockets, do you think they would have gotten away with so much already?"  
"Look, Pete, we don't know anything for sure yet," Clark retorted. "Let's not start throwing accusations around."  
Pete rolled his eyes.  
"I'm going to go down to the County Board of Health this week and see what I can find out about other health problems that might be linked to LuthorCorp," Chloe reported. "Until we have a copy of the autopsy report that's the best place to start."  
"What a second, you guys are actually going to investigate this?" Lana looked incredulous. "Couldn't that be kind of.dangerous?"  
"We're just going to follow some paper trails," Chloe said hastily. It was her standard line. "No harm in that."  
"A man's dead, Chloe, and no one seems to know how or why. Sounds to me like there's already some harm in it." Lana shook her dark head.  
"Don't listen to her, Chloe," Pete counseled. "I say we have a better chance of getting to the bottom of this than anyone else in this town."  
Since this was a complete reversal of Pete's usual attitude, Clark sighed.  
"I know how you feel about the Luthors, Pete, but Lana might be right. Maybe we should stay out of it."  
"And if LexCorp is charged with any wrongdoing, they might be shut down. Think what that would do to the town," Lana added.  
As in most farming communities, economic survival in Smallville was always a tenuous thing. Without the plant they'd all be sunk. Right back where they were when Lionel Luthor had tried shut it down in the previous spring.  
Lionel Luthor. Clark frowned. Why was it every conversation he seemed to have lately kept coming back to him? Until recently he'd been inclined to think his dad was exaggerating a bit about how Lionel and LuthorCorp could manipulate any situation to their benefit . But between the plant and A.J. it was looking more and more like Jonathan Kent had been right.  
Pete waved his fingers in front of his friend's eyes.  
"Clark, hello? Where did you go?"  
"Uh, sorry, what?"  
"Do you want to go with me out to see Mrs. Winters?" Pete repeated. "Brody Winters and my brother Sam were pretty tight. Since Sam's in Metropolis, I feel like I should stop by, see if there's anything I can do."  
"Sure," Clark nodded. "My mom's out there right now anyway."  
"I'd go with you guys," Chloe explained hastily, "But I told A.J. I'd stop by today and give him some back issues of the Torch to read."  
"Well, hey, if the new kid is more important." Clearly annoyed, Pete trailed off with a shrug.  
Lana, however, smiled.  
"That's very nice of you, Chloe," she said knowingly. Apparently the attention Chloe had paid A.J. hadn't been lost on her, either.  
Clark wasn't sure what to make of Chloe's odd behavior. She certainly seemed to have welcomed A.J. into her circle fast. He couldn't help but wonder if she would have done so if she'd known how closely A.J. was connected to the Luthors. But, then, Clark had promised not to reveal that secret.  
Man, this must be a tiny bit like how Pete feels about my secret, he groaned inwardly.  
Explaining his car was parked in the lot across the street, Pete and Clark arranged to meet outside in a few minutes. Pete gave Chloe a disapproving look as he left.  
Great. So now not only was Pete angry over Clark's friendship with Lex, but he resented A.J. as well. What a mess.  
Lana watched him leave with a frown.  
"You know, sometimes I forget how much Pete dislikes Lex. Then he does or says something and I'm suddenly reminded of it."  
Clark nodded. "I know. It's the only part of his personality I've never really understood."  
One of the waitresses tapped Lana on the shoulder.  
"Lana, I'm sorry, but we're out of change. What should I do?"  
"I'll take care of it, Jackie. Thanks for letting me know." When the other girl was out of earshot, however, she sighed. "I'll be glad when we've got a new day manager," she confided to her friends. "I can't keep this place running and keep on top of my school work, too."  
Lana hurried off to solve her latest business crises, and Chloe smiled.  
"Lana Lang, off to save the day again."  
Clark cleared his throat. "Ah, um, Chloe. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But what's up with you and A.J. Carter?"  
Chloe smiled enigmatically.  
"Why, nothing, Clark. Nothing at all."  
Clark though about that strange smiled as he hopped into Pete's car. Strangely enough that was the topic on the other boy's mind as well.  
"I don't think Chloe should be hanging around with that kid," Pete explained as he drove them east out of downtown. "Seriously, what does she know about him?"  
Clark and Chloe had reached a more or less mutual agreement some months before that they made better friends than lovers, so Clark felt a little guilty that part of him agreed with Pete. A.J. did seem like a nice kid, but it was true-Chloe didn't know much about him.  
"I think it's more that he's just somebody knew she can inculcate with her meteor theories," Clark said lightly. "I don't think it's going anywhere. Besides, he lives three hours away."  
"Yeah, well, it better not go anywhere," Pete said grimly.  
Clark shot him a surprised look. He'd forgotten Pete also had feelings for Chloe that were, at times, more than friendship.  
Pete seemed to read his mind.  
"I know what you're thinking, and I'm not madly in love with her, Clark. I just don't want her to get hurt, ok?"  
"I don't either."  
Clark decided he'd better drop the subject, and they drove in silence the rest of the way out to the Winters. 


	6. ch 6

The unfinished Winters house looked forlorn as Pete stopped his car in the dirt driveway. Clark wondered idly if it would ever be finished now.  
"You don't think we should have brought flowers or anything, do you?" Pete asked apprehensively as they got out.  
"I'm not sure what the etiquette is, Pete," Clark shook his head. "No one in my family's ever died."  
They knocked on the door, and after a moment Clark's mother answered it.  
"Pete, Clark, how nice of you to drop by." Clark noticed his mother kept her voice low. "Come on in."  
They stepped it to the living room. The drapes were drawn even though it was the middle of the day, but Clark could see Brody and his maternal grandfather sitting at the kitchen table. An untouched cake sat between them. Other dishes lined the counters, no doubt gifts of food from friends and neighbors. It happened every time there was a disaster or death in the community--the Smallville casserole brigade came out in force to supply upside down cake and tuna noodle casserole to those in need.  
"Hey, Brody, man." Pete approached the young man and clapped him gently on the shoulder.  
The older boy didn't respond. Instead it was Mr. Jasper, Mrs. Winters father, who answered.  
"We appreciate you two boys stopping by."  
"We kinda just wanted to say hello, see if there's anything we can do," Pete offered sheepishly.  
"How's Mrs. Winters?" Clark asked.  
"She's resting. Mrs. MacIntyre is sitting with her," Martha Kent explained. "The doctors are worried about the shock making her condition worse, so she needs to stay in bed for a few days."  
"I'm sorry to hear it," Clark said sincerely. Molly Winters had always been a nice lady. When he was little she had always kept a supply of cookies on hand for the neighborhood boys, even though, as a diabetic, she herself couldn't eat them. Her husband had always done everything he could for his wife. How would the family get along without him?  
Mr. Winters could only have been Jonathan Kent's age. Clark vowed to start working a harder around the farm. He'd been slacking off a little on his chores to devote more time to the Torch. Jonathan hardly ever got sick, but Clark wasn't about to take any chances. He just couldn't imagine a world without his dad in it.  
"Any news from the hospital about what happened?" he asked.  
"Nothing yet." Mr. Jasper shook his head.  
"It was LuthorCorp."  
For the first time Brody Winters lifted his head and stared directly at the Kents.  
"LuthorCorp killed my father."  
Mr. Jasper covered one of his grandson's hands with his own.  
"Son, we don't know that."  
"Of course we know that! You heard how he died!" Brody stood abruptly, shoving back his chair. "He died in agony and it's all their fault!"  
Martha Kent spoke again in her soft voice.  
"Brody, what's happened is a terrible tragedy, but until we know for certain what happened we can't just go around accusing people."  
The younger man's glare was glacial.  
"Of course you'd say that, wouldn't you?"  
Martha was visibly taken aback by Brody's venom, and Clark laid a protective hand on his mother's arm.  
Arthur Japer rubbed his eyes.  
"That's enough, Brody. Don't you take this out on Mrs. Kent. It's not her fault."  
"Maybe there's a rational explanation," Pete offered to no one in particular.  
"C'mon, Pete, you know better than anyone what the Luthors are capable of!" Brody shook his head. "Well, they're not going to get away with it this time."  
"You can't be sure of anything yet," Clark said softly. Brody has always been a polite, soft-spoken young man; Clark had to admit he found this new side of him a little frightening. "Jumping to conclusions is just going to make thing's worse."  
Brody didn't even look at him. He stared out the kitchen window at the muddy yard instead.  
"How would you feel if it was your dad lying on that slab in the morgue, Clark?" The older boy said bitterly. "Wouldn't you want someone to pay?"  
Clark took an involuntary step forward.  
"Only if I knew for sure who was responsible."  
"Oh, I know who's responsible all right," Brody hissed.  
Martha shook her head.  
"Clark, Pete, I think maybe the three of us should go. Brody and his grandfather clearly have a lot on their minds."  
Mr. Jasper rose.  
"I'm sorry," he offered apologetically as he followed them back into the living room. "The boy's just so angry I don't know what to do."  
"It's understandable under the circumstances, Arthur," Martha soothed. "We're not offended. Tell Molly Jonathan and I will stop by tomorrow morning."  
"I will, and thank you, Martha." The old man turned to face the two boys. "Clark, Pete, it looks like we'll be having the funeral on Sunday. It may not seem like it now, but I know Brody would like to have his friends there."  
"Of course," Clark nodded.  
"We'll spread the word," Pete promised.  
As they stepped out on to the incomplete front porch Pete shook his head.  
"Well, that was heavy."  
"He shouldn't have said that to you, Mom," Clark said to his mother. "That was way out of line."  
"When people are hurting they say some terrible things," Martha explained. "He didn't mean it."  
"He seemed pretty convinced to me. Mrs. Kent, you've been working there for a while-do you think there's any chance Brody's right and LuthorCorp did have something to do with Mr. Winters death?" Pete regarded his friend's mother with a frank expression.  
"I don't know, Pete. In any event, the plant belongs to LexCorp now." Martha frowned. "I wish Lionel Luthor was still here; Lex could be in a lot of trouble."  
"I doubt his father would cut his trip short just to help Lex, anyway," Clark scoffed. "Lex can handle this."  
"Don't put too much faith in the guy, Clark," Pete corrected. "He might know what killed Brody's dad, and why, and that makes him partially responsible."  
Clark knew Pete and Lex didn't get along, and normally he would dismiss this kind of language, but this time he couldn't. He thought of Molly Winters, now a widow after more than twenty years of marriage, and Brody, now without a dad. He shivered.  
There was no doubt in his own mind Lex hadn't been involved in what had happened. But there was a good chance his father was. Either way, the community would hold them both responsible.  
Clark didn't like to be pessimistic, but he couldn't help but think Lex's empire was crumbling before it had even been built. ***********************************************  
  
Lana stepped through the back door of the Talon, only to find her staff waiting anxiously for her just inside.  
"Uh, hey, guys. Why aren't you waiting tables?"  
"Because we have no customers," Brian offered.  
Lana kept her smile in place, but inwardly she sighed. Things had been so much easier when her Aunt Nell had been manager. Nell's shop had been right next door, and when minor crises arose someone could just pop over there and get her. Now, however, Nell was settling into an apartment in Metropolis, and planning a wedding. Lana was on her own.  
I can handle this, she told herself. Really, I can.  
"Things are usually slow this time of day," Lana advised. "School's only been out a hour. It'll pick up."  
"Actually, I don't think people can get in the front door," Nancy explained.  
"Excuse me?"  
"You didn't see them?" Nancy grabbed her manager's wrist and towed her across the empty lobby of the converted movie house. She pointed to the glass double doors.  
"See?"  
"What the.?"  
Lana could see a dozen or so young men and women marching back and forth in front of the Talon. They were carrying signs.  
"Looks like picketers to me," Brian supplied.  
"Yes, I can see that, Brian, thank you," Lana said a trifle more sharply than she intended. "But what are they protesting, and why are they in front of our shop?"  
Still in her coat, Lana pushed her way through the doors. A young woman with a nose ring immediately shoved a bright yellow flyer into her hand.  
"Boycott the Luthor industrial complex," the young woman said loudly.  
Lana stared at the paper in her hand. It read, in part, "The Luthor industrial complex had poisoned its last Smallville resident. Take a stand and fight for your family's health. Boycott the Luthors." Under this startling pronouncement was a list of LuthorCorp subsidiaries. To her consternation, she also saw a separate, shorter list. Only two names were on this one, "LexCorp" and "The Talon."  
"Wait a minute," Lana said aloud. Now that she could read the signs, she saw they held slogans like, "Save Smallville" and "A Voice for the Voiceless."  
"Who's in charge here?" She asked a young man in a Metropolis U sweatshirt. He pointed to a tall, thin young man handing out flyers to pedestrians.  
"That's Rich. He's our organizer. Talk to him."  
Lana approached him. "Excuse me. You're Rich?"  
"Yes?" The man didn't even look her in the eye, focusing instead on his handouts.  
"I'm Lana Lang, and I'm the manager here." She held up the flyer. "I want to know what all this is about."  
"What 'all this' is about is stopping LuthorCorp and LexCorp from poisoning any more innocent people," he said frostily. "We're just educating the public, and this is a public sidewalk. Call the cops if you want; they'll tell you the same thing."  
Lana shook her head in disbelief. "Look, I believe in freedom of speech, but people can't get into my business."  
"Of course they can. If they've chosen not to out of solidarity with the Winters family that's not my problem."  
"The Winters family? Is that what this about? Are you the EPA?"  
Rich laughed out loud. "Those bureaucratic wimps? No way. We're the Environmental Defense Action League. We believe in direct action, not waiting around for the government to rescue us. And we've got a few surprises up our sleeve for the Luthors, wait and see."  
"You don't even know the Winters, do you?" Lana frowned.  
"I don't have to know a victim to sympathize with him," the young man said sharply. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do if we're going to get this town organized. Go back to peddling your lattes, although I don't think you'll have many customers today."  
"Why, you." Lana couldn't remember the last time she was so angry. The guy was completely unreasonable.  
She went back inside and made a hasty phone call to Lex, only to get a busy signal. As her two waiters looked on anxiously she hung up and dialed Henry Small's number.  
She explained the situation as best she could, and Henry whistled.  
"Yeah, I've heard to the Environmental Defense Action League. Rich Erickson is their leader, at least of the Metropolis branch. But they're not like the Sierra Club or even Greenpeace. These guys are radicals, and they've been known to employ some pretty underhanded tactics. The kind of tactics that send people to prison."  
"Well, Rich is a real piece of work, I can tell you that. I didn't even bother trying to explain Lex is only a silent partner," Lana fumed.  
"It wouldn't matter if you had-people like Erickson won't see the difference. Luthor money is Luthor money."  
"Yeah, but you said the same thing when we first met," Lana reminded him.  
"But I would never have tried to shut you down, Lana," he reminded her. "I believe people need to make their own choices about right and wrong, not have them rammed down their throats."  
"So what do I do?"  
Henry sighed. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do, Lana. He's right- it's a public sidewalk. And believe me, the less you deal with him the better. You should probably stay closed until the EPA files its report."  
"We can't do that-we'll hemorrhage money," Lana fretted.  
"I know that, but what he said about "surprises" sounds pretty ominous to me. I don't want you to get hurt."  
Lana was genuinely touched. She hadn't known her biological father very long, but it was nice to know he cared.  
"I'll keep trying to reach Lex, and see what he thinks."  
"Whatever you do, be careful. I don't like knowing the EDAL is in town. Things could get very ugly very fast."  
"I'll be careful, I promise," Lana vowed. "But the Talon is my responsibility; I talked Lex into funding it. I'm not going to surrender without a fight."  
"Good girl. Just keep reminding yourself of that."  
"I will. And, um, Dad?" She said shyly.  
There was a long pause on the other end. "Yes?"  
"Thank you." ************************************************  
  
Dale Ross watched as his youngest son idly dragged his fork through his mashed potatoes for the sixth time.  
"I know I'm not as good a cook as your mother, but you usually eat more than three bites of my cooking," he laughed.  
Pete glanced down at his still full plate.  
"Sorry, Dad. I've got a lot on my mind."  
The spacious Ross dining room seemed empty with only Pete and his father in it; with his mom working late and his older brothers and sisters out of the house the whole place often seemed a little cavernous.  
Dale smiled encouragingly.  
"Want to talk about it?"  
"It's just.I told you and Mom about seeing Brody the day before yesterday, right?"  
"You did."  
"Well, I can't get over how angry he is. He and Sam were so tight, and he's always been a good guy."  
"He has. It's a terrible things to lose a parent, son, especially the way Brody did."  
"I know. But the thing is, part of me wants the Luthors to be responsible, like he says. And then part of me feels bad for thinking that way. I mean, that's not going to bring Mr. Winters back."  
Dale sighed and set aside his napkin.  
"No it isn't, son. And I know how you feel."  
Pete studied his father for a long moment. "You do?"  
The older man nodded.  
"Lord knows I don't think kindly of the Luthors, not after all that's happened. I still think the day they came here was the darkest day in the town's history. But," he held up his fork, "I'm also a trained lawyer. I believe in the due process of law. Brody can't just jump over that and say the Luthors are guilty based on his hunch."  
Pete leaned forward in his chair. "Yeah, but Dad, you gotta admit you'd like to see the Luthors run out of town on a rail."  
Dale sighed. "Maybe, for a few seconds. And then I remember that believing in right and wrong is what makes me different from people like the Luthors." He fixed his youngest son with a stern glance. "And that's what I've tried to teach you kids, as well."  
Pete grinned. "I know you have, Dad." He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a key in the backdoor. "There's Mom."  
Dale stood up. "Put the meatloaf back in the microwave, would you? The least we can do is give you mother a hot meal," he winked.  
But before Pete made it to the kitchen his mother walked in and held up a hand.  
"If that's for me, Petey, leave it here. I couldn't eat a thing." Mrs. Ross collapsed onto one of the dining room chairs with a sigh.  
"Tough day, honey?" Her husband asked conciliatorily.  
"You have no idea." When her son produced a cup of tea she smiled tiredly. "Thank you, baby."  
"What kept you at work so long?" Pete asked.  
"Some environmental group has petitioned the court for an injunction against LexCorp."  
Dale whistled, and Pete frowned.  
"What exactly would an injunction do, Mom?"  
Kate drank her tea. "It would shut them down, sweetheart, at least for a while. As a danger to human health."  
"The EPA?" Her husband asked.  
"No, some fringe group out of Metropolis. I can't think of the name right off hand. But Mayor Tate and most of the city council signed off on it as well." The judge rolled her eyes. "And guess who gets to make the call?"  
"You're a great judge, Mom," Pete reassured her.  
"I'm afraid this isn't about you mom's abilities, son," Dale told him. "It sounds to me like the town's already taking sides. And if that's the case."  
"If that's the case," his wife continued, "no decision I make will be the right one. Either way I'll anger someone."  
Dale went to his wife's side and threw an arm around her.  
"Don't worry, Katie. You just do what you believe is right, and damn what anyone else thinks." He glanced back at his son. "As I was just telling Pete, here, sometimes that's the best we can do."  
  
**************************************  
Clark sat on his front porch, idly rereading the coverage of Mr. Winters' death in the local paper. It wasn't anything he hadn't already heard from Chloe: the autopsy had ruled the cause of Mr. Winters' death to be "unknown."  
Great. Like people weren't freaked out enough before.  
At least the hospital had finally released the body, and the family could hold the funeral Sunday, as they had planned. People always talked about funerals bringing closure, but Clark had to admit he didn't think this one would make anyone feel better. But, still, his parents had dutifully gone off to help make the final arrangements.  
He leaned back against the top step. Maybe Chloe was right, he though, and this was related to the meteors. But in the past the green rocks had always produced mutations; they'd never killed anyone outright. At least he didn't think they had. And where had Mr. Winters been exposed to them?  
  
The whole town had already decided that whatever fatal substance Winters' had encountered must have been at Plant 3. And, as much as Clark hated to admit it, they were probably right. He could still remember how sick just the residue on Level 3 had made him as he'd tried to save Lex from Earl Jenkins. Of course those experiments, whatever they were, had occurred long before Lex's buyout. But no one-not the protestors, not the papers-was making that distinction. Once again, all Luthors were being painted with the same brush.  
As he sat there musing on the perfidy of Lionel and the trouble he seemed to almost deliberately make for Lex, Clark was surprised to see A.J. turn in to the driveway.  
"Hey, I didn't expect to see you around here," Clark offered as he met him halfway.  
The other boy shrugged.  
"I just was out for a walk and thought I'd drop by. Lex said you lived out here." He glanced around him at the yellow farmhouse and the barn. "Nice place."  
"You walked all the way from the mansion? That's a couple of miles."  
"Yeah, well, I had some thinking to do." A.J. looked at him knowingly. "Look, Lex told me you knew about me. I wanted to thank you for not blowing my cover at the Talon that first day. I didn't mean to put you in a position of having to lie to your friends."  
"Not a problem." Clark smiled ruefully. "I'm pretty good at keeping secrets. Hey, since you're here, you want to shoot some hoops? I mean, if you're not too tired?"  
"Sure."  
Clark showed A.J. the side of the barn where his father had hung a basketball net. He grabbed a ball from the converted granary bin that held his sports equipment and tossed it to his guest.  
"You know, I'm sure Lex would loan you a car if you asked."  
A.J. shook his head. "I didn't want to bother him. He's got a lot on his mind. One of his employees died earlier this week."  
"Yeah, I've heard."  
Bouncing the ball in the hard-packed dirt, A.J. glanced up at him. "Judging from this morning's paper so has everyone else. Did you know him?"  
"I did. My parents are over there now." He watched while A.J. lined up his shot. "Does Lex know what happened?"  
A.J. made a basket. "The EPA and the hospital are telling him the same thing they're telling everyone else. The autopsy was 'inconclusive.' But it sounds like it definitely wasn't a natural death."  
Clark accepted the ball back for his shot. "That's been known to happen around here."  
"So I hear."  
When Clark shot him a puzzled look, A.J. grinned bashfully.  
"Your friend Chloe kinda filled me in on Smallville when her dad brought her by the other night. Or at least she filled me in on the version you aren't going to get from the Chamber of Commerce."  
"Yeah, Chloe is our resident expert on weird stuff." Clark shot, careful not to use any extra strength that might propel the ball too far or too high. As a result it only bounced off the rim.  
"That's what Lex said."  
"So, um, how's that whole thing going?"  
A.J. just shrugged.  
"Look, it isn't really any of my business, but I know Lex is really happy he found you." Clark made the basket this time. "I think Lex regrets not having more family around. His dad doesn't really count."  
"So I hear. Your mom works for Lionel, right?"  
"Yeah. I guess you'd say she's his personal assistant. But she doesn't travel with him, so she's home now."  
A.J. tossed the ball in the air idly.  
"What do you think of Lionel?"  
"I don't really think about him much one way or another." Clark chewed his lip for a moment. "A lot of people around here don't like him. But my mom really likes her job, so there must be something there, you know? He and Lex are.well, I don't even know how to explain that." He studied the other boy for a minute. "You haven't met him yet?"  
A.J. took a shot and missed.  
"No, and I don't plan to."  
"He is your father."  
A.J. looked at him seriously.  
"No, Clark. I had a father, and he died."  
Clark nodded in understanding. As much as he'd love to find his birth parents, he couldn't imagine calling anyone else "Mom" and "Dad."  
"When I first met Lex," A.J. mused, "I thought I'd be able to get answers to all my questions. But the more I learn the more confused I get." He shook his head. "If I thought Lionel would give me some straight answers, believe me, I'd meet with him in a second. But if he hasn't been honest with Lex I don't see why he'd be honest with me."  
"You're probably right there," Clark commiserated. "With Lionel, not being honest with people comes with the territory."  
As much as he sympathized with A.J., he couldn't help but grin at the irony of having to conceal someone else's secret for a change. And seeing how tentative the other boy still felt about the situation, Clark could certainly understand Lex's reluctance to drag A.J. into his complicated relationship with his father.  
"Clark, you and my brother are pretty good friends, right? I mean, he told me how you saved his life."  
Clark rolled his eyes. "Man, I wish he'd quit bringing that up. But, yeah, I guess we are."  
A.J. took another shot, making a basket this time.  
"My sister's coming to pick me up tomorrow. I'm not sure how to explain this, but I have a really bad feeling about things, about this guy."  
"Mr. Winters."  
"Yeah, this Mr. Winters dying. Lex won't admit it, but I know he feels terrible about it. He's going to the funeral tomorrow." The young man bit his lip. "If it really was a suspicious death." A.J. trailed off.  
Tucking the ball under his arm, Clark regarded him seriously. "A.J., believe me, Lex won't ever say anything to you about what he feels. He likes to take care of things his own way. But he's a pretty capable guy."  
"I realize that. But I just, I don't know, want to know that if there's trouble someone out there is watching his back."  
"I'm sure there'll be a logical explanation for what happened." Clark shook his head. "But Lex is my friend. Of course I'll watch out for him."  
A.J. grinned.  
"Good. And don't tell him I asked you, ok? He's very into being the older brother who takes care of things. I don't think he'd appreciate me trying to subvert our birth order."  
"You got it." Clark had to admit he really liked A.J., would have liked him even if he wasn't Lex's brother. A.J. seemed to genuinely care about what happened to his brother. Clark just hoped nothing would happen to ruin things between the two.  
"C'mon inside and we'll grab a soda. Then I'll give you a tour of the farm. It's not much compared to the mansion, but we like it."  
"Hey, if your house doesn't have a draft and creaky floors it's already ahead in my book," A.J. laughed as he followed Clark into the house. 


	7. ch 7

The day of Mr. Winters' funeral dawned muggy and overcast. By the time the Kent family left for the cemetery faint rumbles of thunder could be heard in the distance.  
"That's all we need now," Jonathan Kent sighed as he helped his wife into the truck. He was dressed in his best suit, one Clark hadn't seen in years. The boy tugged unhappily at his own tie.  
"Clark, stop that," his mother scolded as she made room for him on the seat. "That was your Grandfather Hyrum's tie."  
"Great," Clark muttered to himself. The only funeral he'd ever been to was for Whitney Fordman's father. He wasn't exactly anxious to attend another one, but he knew it was the right thing to do. And, after all, Mr. Jasper had asked him to be there. To support Brody.  
There was already a long line of cars ahead of them as they approached the cemetery; since it was a rural area most people just parked along the side of the road and walked. Clark had spent more time in this cemetery than he cared to think about. Lana's parents were buried here, as well as his grandparents and great-grandparents.  
The few rows of chairs provided for the graveside service were already full. Brody, his mother, and his grandfather sat in the front, next to the flower-laden coffin. Martha went to Molly and took her hand, speaking softly. Both Molly and her father looked pale and exhausted.  
While Clark waited uncomfortably for the service to begin, he spotted Pete arriving with his parents. His best friend looked as hot and uncomfortable as he felt.  
"Mr. Ross, Judge Ross, nice to see you," Clark said quietly. He started when a hand touched his shoulder; looking around he saw his dad had joined the Ross' as well.  
"Your mother's going to sit with Molly, in case she needs anything," Jonathan explained.  
"How is she, Jonathan?" Judge Ross asked.  
"As well as can be expected, I think," Jonathan frowned. "At least she's got her father and son looking after her now."  
"Amen to that," Mr. Ross nodded.  
"Have you spoken to Brody lately?" Pete half-whispered to Clark.  
"No. You?"  
"No."  
The two friends glanced at where the other boy sat. Brody was expressionless, but his lips were set in a grim, determined line.  
"He doesn't look so good." Pete shook his head.  
"Would you under the circumstances?" Clark stepped back so some more arrivals could squeeze past them. "Who are all these people? The whole town must be here."  
"Yeah, but for the wrong reasons," Pete sighed. "You heard about the petition? And that there'll be a hearing?"  
"Yes."  
"I think some of these people are just here so they can tell their friends," Pete said angrily. "Vultures."  
Clark only nodded sadly as the Reverend Whittig stepped up to stand at the head of the grave. He opened his Bible and began the service, but it took a while for the large crowd to quiet down enough for Clark to hear anything.  
There was no music, no singing. Only the distant rolls of thunder accompanied the Reverend's sermon. He spoke about Heaven, and about God's love, none of which seemed particularly appropriate to the violent way Mr. Winter's had met his end.  
Several people then spoke about Mr. Winters: about his friendliness, his devotion to his family. Even Mayor Tate, who probably had never laid eyes on the man, said a few words. Clark wondered if maybe Pete was right about the community turnout having more to do with the legal troubles surrounding Jim Winters' death than with any urge to celebrate his life.  
Clark found himself feeling more and more depressed, and the lowering gray skies seemed to grow more oppressive as the service went on. Clark could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck, and Pete shifted back and forth on his feet tiredly.  
After a final, long prayer, Reverend Wittig gestured for the family to come forward. Mrs. Winters stumbled a little as she stood, but her son and father steadied her. As the coffin was lowered into the grave people began to depart, but Clark's father took his arm.  
"Come with me, son," Jonathan said gruffly, leading him toward the Winters family. Clark had forgotten Jonathan had known Jim Winters since high school.  
Each surviving member of the Winters family took a handful of earth and tossed it into the grave. Clark stood back awkwardly while his mother took his father's arm, and they both did the same.  
Feeling a suspicious pricking sensation in the back of his throat, Clark hastily looked away. He glanced east toward the horizon and Metropolis, where it looked like it was already raining. Then he watched the other attendees pass through the stone gates of the cemetery, following the path back to the road.  
Now that the crowd was considerably thinner he could see a figure in a dark suit standing a few yards away, closer to the gates than to the service. Lex.  
Clark mentally kicked himself. He had forgotten all about his friend, and Lex had obviously been standing there by himself for some time.  
Unfortunately, Brody Winters saw him, too. His eyes narrowed, and before Clark realized his intent he closed the distance between himself and Lex in a few strides.  
Lex stood his ground. He looked like he was about to say something, but Brody Winters didn't give him a chance. He swung out hard with his right fist, knocking the other man to the ground and pinning him with an arm against his throat.  
"Dad!" Clark yelled, rushing toward the fight with his father and Mr. Jasper on his heels.  
It was obvious to Clark that Lex was making only a cursory attempt to defend himself against Brody' punches. Genuinely frightened for his friend Clark grabbed Brody's shoulder and pulled him off.  
"Brody, stop, let him go!"  
"Stay out of this, Clark!" Brody yelled as he shoved back, trying in vain to shake Clark loose. They were no match physically, of course, but Brody's raw fury was still a terrible thing to see.  
Arthur Jasper seized hold of his grandson's arm.  
"Brody, stop this right now! You know better than to behave like this!"  
While Clark and Jasper planted themselves in front of the infuriated boy, Jonathan helped Lex to his feet.  
"I'm all right," Clark could hear Lex respond to Jonathan's query. That was of course a lie-Lex's lip was split and he would no doubt be a mess of bruises by the next day.  
"Who the hell said you could be here?" Brody shouted at him. "We don't want you here!"  
"That's enough," his grandfather ordered. Then he gentled his voice and put his arm around the young man. "Don't upset your mother by making a scene."  
Of course, Brody had already made a scene-most of the remaining guests were staring at their little tableau with undisguised curiosity.  
As he realized this all of the fight went out of him and he slumped against his grandfather's arm. Arthur slowly led his grandson back to the graveside.  
Clark approached Lex. He desperately wanted to say something to his friend, apologize for Brody's behavior, explain that Lex was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but all that came out was, "Are you sure you're all right?"  
Lex had already assumed a studied air of nonchalance, even as he brushed dirt off his expensive suit.  
"Fine, Clark."  
"Lex," Jonathan began tentatively. "Brody is angry."  
But Lex held up his hand.  
"I understand, Mr. Kent, really I do. Clearly this was not one of my better ideas. I think it would be best if I leave." He glanced briefly back at the tiny group of mourners. "Please offer my sincere condolences to Mrs. Winters."  
The older Kent worked his jaw for a moment, clearly wanting to say more, but finally nodded.  
"Of course I will, Lex."  
Clark had never heard his father speak to Lex so gently.  
"Thank you, Mr. Kent. Clark, I'll see you later."  
Before Clark could think of something else to say Lex had walked away.  
"Dad, that was awful," Clark blurted.  
Jonathan laid a comforting hand on his son's shoulder.  
"I know it was, and it was wrong, but Lex will get over it. Right now your mother needs you and me with her."  
Clark nodded mutely. He knew the polite thing to do now was to stay with his parents. But he couldn't help but worry. He knew Lex better than his father did. And he didn't think this was something Lex would be able to get over very easily.  
  
**********************************************  
A.J. looked up from the first edition of Coleridge's poems he was reading as his sister was shown into the library. When the housekeeper closed the double doors behind her Catherine looked around the spacious, paneled room in bemusement.  
"So do I get a tour guide to show me how to get back to the front door?" She grinned at him.  
He tossed aside his book and stood, giving her a quick hug.  
"Your hair's wet," he scolded.  
"Have you looked outside? It's pouring!" She shivered a bit. "It started raining in Metropolis this morning and now most of eastern Kansas' getting drenched. Have you got your stuff all packed? If we leave now we can get home before midnight."  
"Um, I wanted to talk to you about that."  
His older sister frowned. "About what?"  
A.J. crossed the room and leaned against Lex's desk.  
"Um, here's the thing, Cate. I can't leave. Not yet, anyway."  
Catherine dropped her purse on the couch. "What do you mean you can't leave? A.J., it's Sunday, you have school tomorrow. End of story."  
"I kinda already asked Lex if I could stay a few more days and he kinda already said yes." A.J. shook his head as his sister began to pace on the hardwood floor. "I tried to reach you at the hospital but they said you'd already left and your cell wasn't on." He glanced up at her sheepishly. "I'm sorry."  
"A.J., we said a week. That was the deal." Catherine paused in front of the large fireplace. "I'm sorry if you and Lex made other plans, but it's really out of the question."  
It was A.J.'s turn to frown. "What does that tone mean?"  
"What tone?"  
"The way you said his name." A.J. folded his arms across his chest. "Like you're angry at him. It was my idea, really."  
Catherine stared at the fire. "Oh, I'm sure of that."  
Her brother took a tentative step forward.  
"Cate, a lot's been happening. I know you don't want me to miss school but I can make it up. I need to be here right now."  
She shot him a withering glance. "Why?"  
"Lex is in trouble."  
She looked genuinely alarmed. "Trouble? What kind of trouble? Are you all right?"  
"Whoa, take it easy. Bad choice of words. He's got business trouble, that's all." As quickly as he could A.J. filled his sister in on what had been happening. She sat down on the couch and listened quietly to his story.  
"So when he came back from the funeral with a split lip, I knew I had to stay," he finished with a sigh. "The whole town's turned against him, and he doesn't have anyone else here he can count on."  
"What about these friend you mentioned? Chloe and .Clark? They'll be here."  
A.J. ran a hand through his hair.  
"Yeah, but they're not.family."  
His sister's scowl deepened, and he sat down next to her.  
"Cate, if I were in this kind of trouble you wouldn't leave me."  
"You wouldn't be in this kind of trouble."  
"Work with me here, o.k.? I know Lex isn't perfect, but he is my brother and I want to help him."  
Catherine arched her fair eyebrows.  
"And how, exactly, are you going to help him?"  
A.J. slouched a little. "I haven't really figured that out yet."  
"What Lex needs is a good lawyer. I'm sorry, kiddo. I know you want to be a good brother to Lex, whether he deserves it or not." A.J. opened his mouth to object, and she held up a hand for silence. "But I am responsible for you, and what I say goes."  
"I have a good lawyer-several of them, actually," Lex spoke up from the doorway on the other side of the room. "But A.J. is still welcome to stay as long as he likes."  
A.J. stood up as his brother came into the room from the side hallway.  
"She doesn't want me missing school," A.J. shrugged apologetically. Then he grinned. "Like it'll matter. I'm at the head of my class."  
"And you want to stay there, right?" Catherine stood, too, narrowing her eyes as she looked at Lex. "You're a mess."  
"And it's nice to see you again, too," Lex responded.  
"I'm serious. You should put on ice pack on that lip, and then some antibiotic ointment."  
A.J. laughed. "She's never been much on small talk."  
"So I see." Lex smiled as best he could. "Is that the doctor speaking?"  
"No, personal experience." Her expressed eased a bit. "Girls have been known to punch each other in the mouth sometimes, too."  
Feeling a bit lost with the trend the conversation was taking, A.J. was nonetheless relieved to see that his sister seemed more amused than angry now. He wasn't sure why Catherine's attitude towards Lex had altered so dramatically. He desperately wanted them to like each other, but he'd settle for civility. That was a start, anyway.  
As another clap of thunder rattled the lead-glass windows in their frames A.J. seized his opportunity.  
"Listen--the storm's getting worse, Catherine. It's probably not a good idea to drive all the way to Metropolis tonight, anyway."  
"You should both stay," Lex nodded. "It isn't like I haven't got the room." For a moment A.J. could see his sister weighing her two options. Clearly she still did not like the idea of staying in Lex's house any longer than they had to. But fortunately for him her common sense won out.  
"Fine. We'll talk about this again tomorrow," she said firmly.  
"Of course," Lex soothed.  
But A.J. gave his brother a subtle wink. He knew from experience just how to wear his sister down, and now he'd have the whole evening to work on her. She didn't know it yet, but she'd as good as agreed to let him stay.  
  
**********************************************  
At the main counter in the Talon, Lana studied the last few days' receipts and sighed.  
"It's not that bad, is it?" Chloe, sitting next to her, asked.  
"It's pretty bad." Lana shook her head. "Erickson may have taken his protestors off to the county courthouse, but my business is still way down."  
Chloe and Clark glanced around the coffeehouse. Lana was right-usually weekday nights were pretty busy, but now only a few tables were occupied. The EDAL's campaign to smear LexCorp had worked well, and people were staying away from the Talon.  
"I've never seen the town like this," Clark frowned.  
"My dad say there's been protestors outside of the plant every day since news of the hearing got out," Chloe offered.  
"Poor Gabe," Lana sympathized. "He and all the rest of LexCorp's employees are taking a lot of heat from the town." She glanced again at the receipts. "I know what that feels like."  
"Without LexCorp and the plant this town is as good as dead." Clark took a sip from his mug. "The mayor and the city council seem to have forgotten that."  
"Have you read what Tate's been saying in the Ledger? It's like he's convinced that Lex himself killed Mr. Winters. Maybe he's got some sort of personal vendetta against Lex," Chloe said. She glanced over at Clark. "Does he?"  
He shrugged. "You've got me. Judge Ross is having a hard time, too- Pete said LexCorp's lawyers tried to have her removed from the case as a conflict of interest, but it probably won't happen. Other people are saying she won't be tough enough. All I know is that I'll be happy when the hearing is over and things can get back to normal around here. Once LexCorp is cleared Erickson will go back where he came from."  
"We hope," Lana said with a frown. She glanced up as the front doors opened and A.J. came in with an attractive blond woman. A.J. pointed the woman to a table and approached the counter.  
"Hey, is it ever going to stop raining around here?" He laughed as he brushed raindrops out of his brown hair. "How's it going?"  
"Slowly. Very slowly," Lana answered.  
A.J. scowled. "I just want you guys to know-I think what the EDAL is trying to do here stinks. I really do."  
"The sentiment is appreciated, although my business would appreciate it more if you'd order something," Lana smiled.  
"Yeah, sure. Two cappuccinos, the hotter the better."  
Chloe raised her eyebrows, looking at the young woman A.J. had brought in with him.  
"And speaking of hot, isn't she a little out of your league?"  
A.J. looked puzzled for a moment, and then his expression lit up with amusement. "She's my sister, actually. But she'd probably agree with you."  
"That's your sister?" Clark repeated.  
A.J. fixed him with a stern gaze. "Yes. And shut up."  
"I didn't say anything," Clark laughed. "But will you introduce us anyway?"  
"If I must," the other boy sighed. While Lana fixed their order Chloe and Clark followed A.J. back to his table.  
"Chloe, Clark, this is my sister, Catherine. Cate, this is Chloe and Clark."  
The older woman shook hands with each of them politely. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Won't you sit down?"  
They did as she bade, and when Lana arrived with the drinks she joined them, too.  
"May as well take a break," she sighed.  
"Things will pick up again," A.J. consoled. "Some protestors decided to camp out in front of the Talon over the weekend and it's really hurt business," he explained to his sister.  
"Has the Metropolis press been covering the protests?" Chloe asked the newcomer.  
Catherine Carter nodded. "Now that the city council's petitioned the court for an injunction, it's front page news in the Planet."  
"I doubt it was the city council's idea," Clark explained. "This environmental group has been spreading a lot of literature around town blaming LuthorCorp and LexCorp for what happened. And a lot more, besides. I figure all the bad publicity made the city council decide to act, even if it costs jobs."  
"Which group is it?" Catherine asked idly.  
"They call themselves the Environmental Defense Action League, the EDAL," Lana supplied.  
Catherine set down her cup. She shot her brother an inscrutable look. "You didn't say the EDAL was involved," she said sternly.  
A.J. looked confused. "I didn't know it was important. Is it?"  
His sister leaned back with a sigh. "Is a guy named Rich Erickson with them?"  
Chloe nodded. "Do you know him?"  
"Oh, I know of him." She stared off in the distance for a moment. "If he's gotten involved this is a lot worse than I thought."  
"What is it?" Lana asked, learning forward. "A.friend of mine said the EDAL's a radical group."  
"That's putting it mildly. Some would call them ecoterrorists." Catherine shook her head. "Don't get me wrong-there's a lot of groups out there that do really great work for the environment. But that's not the EDAL."  
"So how do they work?" Chloe had gone in to inquiry mode. "And how do you know about Erickson?"  
"I don't know him personally, thank god. But when I was an undergrad up at Central City Erickson came to town and organized a branch of the EDAL on campus. Claimed the university was involved in bioweapons research."  
Chloe rested her chin in her hands. "Were they?"  
Catherine sipped her drink. "They were working with the T.B. vaccine, trying to make it more effective. That meant keeping live cultures of the disease. But that doesn't make it a bioweapon. Unfortunately people like Erickson don't draw those kinds of distinctions. For them, everything in the world is black and white."  
"So what happened?" Clark asked.  
"One night there was a fire in the research lab. Killed a researcher and destroyed several million dollars worth of equipment." Catherine shook her head. "The fire department concluded someone had planted an incendiary device in the basement."  
Clark whistled. "So was Erickson arrested?"  
"Yes, but they couldn't make a charge stick. No fingerprints."  
"But you think it was him?" Chloe asked.  
"Him, or one of his followers. Erickson left town pretty quick and without him that EDAL branch collapsed. But there are always people willing to follow someone who gives them simple answers." Cate rubbed her temples. "If Erickson's here it means a lot more than a hearing and some pickets. He is more than capable of doing serious harm."  
"Then we should tell the police," Clark insisted.  
"Oh, I'm sure they know, Clark-Erickson must have a record as long as my arm by now."  
"So what can we do?" Lana asked.  
"Do?" Catherine looked thoughtful. "I don't think you can 'do' anything, Lana. Just stay as far away from Erickson and his followers as possible and hope this whole thing blows over." She glanced at A.J. "And that goes double for you."  
"Yes, ma'am," A.J. shook his head. "Like I would want to have anything to do with that nut job."  
Clark was quiet for a long moment.  
"I still think there must be something we can do. Tonight I'll go over to Pete's and see if Judge Ross is there. She probably already knows about these people, but I want to be sure."  
"I'll go with you, if you don't mind," Chloe spoke up quickly.  
Lana smiled. "Trying to wrangle an interview with the judge?"  
"No-just a fact-finding mission," Chloe laughed. "But maybe she'll give me an interview after the hearing. An interview with the judge who had to decide whether or not to shut down LexCorp should get me back in the pages of the Ledger, don't you think?"  
Clark rolled his eyes. Some things never changed. 


	8. ch 8

Lex walked down the hallway back to the library. The storm that had been plaguing the town on and off for the last week had died down a bit, but he could still hear the wind wailing mournfully outside the house. It was late at night and although all the hall lights were illuminated they barely penetrated the gloom.  
That was the real problem with living here, he'd always thought. No matter how many things he brought from Metropolis or how many designers rearranged the rooms for him the house still seemed cold and empty and dark. He'd always assumed there was something wrong with the house itself, but after having his brother with him for a week and a half he now suspected the problem was simpler than that. When his father was home he and Lionel tended to avoid each other, and pass their time in separate rooms. But with A.J. around to have meals with and shoot pool somehow the house didn't seem quite so forlorn.  
Lex smiled wryly. He supposed stress was making him overly sentimental, but he was profoundly glad Catherine Carter had agreed to let A.J. stay another week. He didn't even mind that she herself had insisted on staying as well.  
Of course the curious thing about her was that she didn't seem to like him very much. Lex was used to people disliking him on first meeting. But when he thought back on it Catherine had been nothing but polite and solicitous the first few times they had met. Now, if her prolonged silences were anything to judge by, she didn't like him at all. He couldn't help but wonder about the change, but it didn't really worry him. He'd never had much trouble getting in to a woman's good graces, when he wanted to.  
He opened the library door quietly, and found his brother sprawled on the couch, sound asleep. The book he was reading lay open on his chest. Catherine was sitting across the room. She glanced up at his entrance.  
"I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your desk," she said softly so as not to wake the sleeping boy. "I'm writing a letter."  
"I don't mind at all." Lex paused next to the couch and glanced at his watch. "It's nearly midnight-shouldn't we wake him?"  
"Believe me, that would be a waste of time-he sleeps like the dead. Just throw a blanket over him and he'll be fine," she advised.  
Lex retrieved a cashmere throw from one of the chairs. He carefully removed the book from A.J.'s slack hands and covered him with the plush blanket. As Catherine had predicted, the young man didn't stir.  
She smiled thoughtfully. "He's always been able to sleep soundly like that, ever since he was little. Me, I've gotten too used to working irregular hours." As a afterthought, she added, "I hope your meeting went well."  
"About what I expected," he shrugged.  
Frowning, Catherine set down her pen. "But if LuthorCorp used to own the plant, wouldn't its lawyers want to help defend it at the hearing?"  
"You'd thing so, wouldn't you?" Lex mused aloud. "But that's not how they work. All they want is for my own lawyers to leave them out of this and protect my father's good name." He carefully stirred the fire.  
"No offense, Lex, but from what I've heard your father's name is far from blemish free, either here or in Metropolis. I don't see why this potential scandal would be different."  
"It's different because it involves me. My father resents the hell out of me for starting my own company. I think he's holding back, waiting to see if the hearing finishes me off before he decides if he wants to become involved."  
"Do you really think he would do something like that?"  
"I know he would. My father never lets anything stand between himself and what he wants, not even family." Lex smiled ruefully. "Especially not family."  
"I see." Catherine stood and went to stand by the window. "Lex, did A.J. tell you what I told him about Erickson and the EDAL?"  
"He did."  
"I want you to understand, I'm still not happy about A.J. being here. When our father died I promised myself that I would always look after A.J., and I take that responsibility very seriously."  
Lex stood next to her. "Do you honestly think I would let A.J. get hurt?"  
She studied him for a long moment. "Maybe not intentionally," she said finally. "But that doesn't change the fact that things can go very wrong in the blink of an eye."  
"I promise you, I take my responsibility for A.J. very seriously. I will not let anything happen to him. The hearing will start tomorrow morning and I have no doubt that LexCorp will be cleared of any wrong doing."  
She looked at him skeptically again, and then out the window. "He likes it here a lot."  
"And I like having him here." Lex smiled. "He's a bright kid."  
"You have no idea," she said. "Our mother says he's too smart for his own good."  
"How is Amber?"  
Cate shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. This whole thing's knocked her for a bit of a loop, but when she called us last week from Hong Kong she sounded fine. I'm writing a letter to her, just to let her know A.J. is ok. The rest of the story can wait, I guess."  
Lex looked out the window at the moon, briefly visible between the fast- moving storm clouds.  
"What's she like? Your mother?"  
"Hmm? Amber is, well, Amber. She can be a little scatterbrained sometimes. I think that must be why I've always called her by her first name-even as a little kid she didn't strike me as a very maternal sort of person. But she's also very sharp when it come to people, and when she believes passionately in something she'll fight tooth and nail for it."  
"How long has she been traveling?"  
"On and off the past few years. A few weeks here, a few months there. When A.J. moved in with me she decided to just stay on the road. She loves to travel, and see new places, and she's been restless ever since Henry died. I think moving around helps her forget, if that makes any sense."  
"It does. What was Henry like?"  
It was Cate's turn to stare up at the sky. "Henry was very, very.good." She laughed. "I know that must sound like a pretty mild recommendation."  
"Not at all," Lex said truthfully.  
"But that's really the best word for him. He believed in work, and family, and moderation in all things. He liked order and routine: roast beef on Sundays and the occasional golf game when the weather was fair. He was a great dad. Kind of strict, I guess, but fair. He never raised his voice, but when you were in trouble he had this way of looking at you that made you promise to do better." Cate laughed again. "He and Amber could not have been less alike, but somehow it worked, you know?"  
"He doesn't sound anything like my father," Lex mused. "Strange to imagine they were once friends."  
"It is," Cate nodded. The two of them stood together for a long moment, the silence broken only by A.J.'s steady breathing. ************************************************  
  
Clark edged his way into the crowded courtroom, feeling elbows in his ribs as he pushed past people to get to Chloe. She plucked her coat off the seat she'd been saving for him.  
"Where've you been, Clark?"  
"Outside in the hall waiting for enough people to leave so I could squeeze in. They need crowd control or something," he growled.  
"Yeah, well, if you'd gotten the day off like I did you wouldn't have had to wait."  
"C'mon, Chloe, my parents practically laughed in my face when I asked to miss school. I can't believe your Dad went for it."  
"This hearing concerns him as much as anyone," Chloe said mulishly. "It's his job on the line. Besides, how can I report for the Torch if I miss half of what happens?"  
"So what has happened?"  
Chloe thumbed through her notepad. "So far we've heard from Mayor Tate, most of the city council members, Mrs. Jessup, Mr. Yardly-"  
"That crackpot?" Clark interrupted. "Why'd they let him on the stand?"  
"Because that's how a public hearing goes, Clark-anybody who wants to weigh in gets a chance. Of course when he blamed the grubs in his cabbages on LuthorCorp I think he may have gone too far."  
"I guess. Sounds like everyone's just venting at LuthorCorp."  
"I'd say that's a pretty fair description," Chloe nodded. "Then there was someone from the EDAL-but not Erickson, strangely enough, just some lawyer. The EPA is supposed to be here this afternoon to give their conclusions, along with the coroner who did the autopsy."  
"Oh, good."  
"Don't be sarcastic. Although I don't know what they expect them to say- both reports were inconclusive," she sighed.  
Clark glanced around the crowded courtroom. Pete's mom, Judge Ross, was seated behind the bench; he scarcely recognized her in her black robes. She was in deep conference with one of the bailiffs. Pete and his father were seated a few rows ahead of where Clark was, for moral support, no doubt. Clark could also see Brody in the front row.  
"Mr. Jasper isn't here?" He asked aloud.  
"Yeah, weird, isn't it?" Chloe shrugged. "But Brody's been here all day."  
Judge Ross banged her gavel, and the courtroom finally quieted down a little.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, at this point we'd like to resume the testimony. Let me first remind you, however, that no disruptions of these proceedings will be tolerated." Her stern, ringing voice couldn't have been more different from her usual gentle demeanor. "Anyone attempting to do so will be promptly escorted out. Do I make myself clear?"  
A few people cleared their throats, but no one dared speak.  
"The court calls Mr. William Quirrel of the Environmental Protection Agency."  
A nervous-looking man in a gray suit pushed his way through the crowd. He took his seat in the witness stand, but Judge Ross smiled sympathetically at him.  
"Mr. Quirrel, let me remind you, this is a public hearing, not a trial. Please describe how the EPA became involved in this matter."  
"Yes, Judge Ross. We were called in by Doctor Bagosian of Smallville Medical Center, whom I believe you heard from this morning."  
"We did," the judge nodded. "Continue."  
"The doctor was concerned about an.unusual death that occurred at the LexCorp Plant No.3."  
"And the EPA routinely inspects this plant?"  
"Yes." Quirrel ignored several skeptical guffaws from the audience. "We inspect the plant every six months to a year. As you will see from the report we submitted to the court the last inspection was only a month ago."  
Judge Ross thumbed through something on her desk. "And at that time you found no anomalies?"  
"No, your honor, we didn't. Everything passed the inspection."  
"Continue."  
"Well, the doctor suspected that, given the deceased's connection to LexCorp, his death might be related to it."  
"And you, as a representative, investigated the case?"  
"I did. The EPA worked with your county coroner, Mr. Killiam, to determine if Mr. Winter's death could have been caused by exposure to something at the plant."  
"And what did you determine?"  
"Well, nothing, your honor."  
Someone in the audience tittered. Judge Ross raised her eyebrows.  
"Please explain, Mr. Quirrel."  
"We could not determine a cause of death, Your Honor. Therefore it is impossible to say if LexCorp was involved or not."  
"Hmm." Pete's mother checked her papers again.  
"I'd give anything to see what she'd got up there," Chloe hissed is Clark's ear. He shushed her as the judge continued.  
"Mr. Quirrel, you say LexCorp Plant No.3 passed its last inspection with flying colors. But according to several past reports, this plant, formerly a subsidiary of LuthorCorp, has been cited three times in the past ten years for violations of environmental regulations. Is that correct?"  
"It is, Your Honor. The EPA makes such reports a matter of public record."  
"Even so, can you elaborate on those violations?"  
"I was only directly involved with the most recent one, Your Honor. It involved the illegal disposal of LuthorCorp waste on the land of a local farmer."  
Clark shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The incident Quirrel referred to had occurred on his family's land, killing most of the Kent's cattle. Lex had attempted to reimburse them for the loss, but Clark's father had refused to take the money. He didn't know the EPA had fined LuthorCorp.  
"As you were not directly involved in the other two incidents, this court will not ask you to testify about them." When several people complained aloud, Judge Ross shot them a silencing glare. "However, the court will provide copies of these reports to the public. Thank you, Mr. Quirrel. You may step down."  
"Thank you, Your Honor." The man wiped his brow, visibly relieved to be dismissed.  
"The court calls Dr. Jacob Killiam to the stand."  
A short, stocky man stepped through the crowd.  
"You are the coroner for Lowell County?"  
"I am."  
"Please proceed."  
The doctor launched into a long, detailed description of his autopsy results. Clark could tell by the way people started shifting in their seats that, like him, they understood very little of what was being said. Judge Ross was obviously doing her best to follow the doctor's testimony.  
"So you're saying Mr. Winters appeared to be in good health before he died?"  
"As I was saying, it was difficult to determine much, given the extensive damage to the internal organs, but I'd say, yes, he was." "And you do not believe the death could have been a natural one?"  
"No, Your Honor, I do not. I've been coroner for twenty-odd years and I've seen a lot of strange things. But I've never seen a death quite like this one. The macerated organs, the noxious fluid in the chest cavity.I do not know of any disease that could cause that kind of damage."  
"Could it have been caused by exposure to a chemical, as some people are suggesting?"  
Dr. Killiam shrugged. "I suppose it's possible, Your Honor."  
"You sent tissue sample to a lab in Metropolis, I understand?"  
"When neither I nor the EPA could determine the cause of death I sent samples to Metropolis University. But I'm afraid those results may take months." He glanced apologetically at the crowded courtroom.  
The judge sighed. "I understand. Thank you, doctor. You may step down."  
Judge Ross looked out over the courtroom. "Bailiff, is there anyone else scheduled to testify this afternoon?"  
"Mr. Arthur Jasper, Your Honor, but he isn't here," the bailiff replied.  
"Did you call his home?"  
"I did, Your Honor-no answer."  
The crowd whispered among itself, but Brody Winters stood abruptly.  
"He's my grandfather, Judge Ross, and I'm sure he'll be here."  
But the Judge held up a hand.  
"I understand, Mr. Winters, but it's late in the day. In the absence of Mr. Jasper I suggest we call it a day and begin again tomorrow morning, nine a.m. sharp. Court is adjourned." She banged down the gavel, and people began to gather their coats and purses. Clark could see Brody speaking urgently to the man next to him.  
"He'll be here, don't worry; I'll go out to check on him this evening."  
"Poor Brody-he sounds really upset," Clark sympathized.  
"For good reason-that's the EPAL's lawyer he's talking to," Chloe told him. "C'mon, I'm starving-let's drop by the Pizza Palace and you and I can double-check my notes."  
"I promised my mom and dad I'd be home for dinner," Clark shook his head. "But I'm sure they'd love to have you. Mom said she'd be roasting a chicken."  
Chloe rose to his bait. "I wouldn't pass up Martha Kent's cooking. You're on. Just let me call Lana."  
"She's welcome to come, too," Clark added hopefully, but Chloe laughed.  
"Nice try, Romeo, but she's working late at the Talon. They're offering two for one cappuccinos this week to try and catch up on business."  
As Chloe dug through her bag for her cell phone, Clark sighed. Why couldn't anything in his life ever be simple? *********************************************  
  
"So the coroner couldn't tell us anything we didn't already know?" Martha Kent laid down her fork to pass the bowl of mashed potatoes to Chloe.  
"'Fraid not," Clark said around a mouthful of fresh green beans. His mom had obviously taken advantage of her time off from LuthorCorp to do some serious cooking-the Kent table was practically groaning under the weight of plates and bowls.  
"Jim was in perfect health," Jonathan added as he refilled his own plate. "Not a sick day in his life. That's what made Molly's illness bearable."  
"I can't believe Mr. Jasper didn't show up to testify. Great dinner, by the way, Mrs. Kent," Chloe added.  
"Thank you, Chloe," Martha smiled. "And I'm sure he'll be there tomorrow. He probably didn't want to leave Molly."  
"It is odd," Jonathan said thoughtfully. "But you're right, I'm sure, Martha. Say, you didn't happen to make any dessert, did you?"  
Martha rolled her eyes. "Of course, Jonathan. There's pound cake in the refrigerator. But finish what's on you plate first, ok?"  
"Yes, ma'am," Jonathan laughed. He winked at his son. Jonathan Kent had always been a pretty liberated guy, but he was clearly enjoying having his wife back at home.  
"So when does Mr. Luthor get back from London, Mrs. Kent? Has he said anything about the hearing?"  
"I've only had one conference call will him, Chloe. He won't be back until late next week. And, no, he regards the hearing as LexCorp's problem, not his."  
"That's figures," Jonathan mumbled under his breath.  
Clark grinned at him.  
"Hey, Dad, I'll arm wrestle you for the other drumstick," he offered. But Jonathan held up his hands.  
"It's all yours, son. I can't eat another bite."  
Nonetheless, he didn't turn down pound cake served with fresh berries. As the four of them sat around the table, slowly savoring the treat, Clark had to admit he'd really missed his mom's cooking. But more than that he's missed just having all three of them around the table for dinner. For once his mom wasn't working late and his dad wasn't out in the fields. Having Chloe there to rave about the food just added to things.  
A pounding on the kitchen door startled them all.  
"What on earth.?" Martha threw down her napkin and rushed to the door.  
Brody Winter's stepped into the kitchen. His eyes were red, and his hair stood on end as if he'd been running his hands through it.  
"Jonathan, Martha, I'm sorry.I."  
Jonathan stood up and quickly laid a hand on the young man's shoulder.  
"Brody, calm down, take a deep breath," he encouraged.  
"Is it Molly?" Martha asked nervously. Chloe and Clark exchanged apprehensive glances.  
"No, it's my grandpa."  
"Arthur?" Jonathan drew a sharp breath. "Is he all right?"  
Brody's eyes filled, and he looked fearfully from one Kent to another.  
"I don't know. I can't find him. He's missing." 


	9. ch 9

"Is there any way you can stall Judge Ross?" Clark absently scribbled on the note pad by the kitchen phone. At the kitchen table his dad was deep in conversation with Sheriff Debs and Brody Winters.  
"I've tried, Clark, but I can't even get in to see her. Security's too tight." On the other end Clark could hear Chloe digging through her purse. "I sent back a note, but the hearing starts in fifteen minutes--the courtroom's already full. What did the sheriff say?"  
"That Mr. Jasper is not technically missing until he's been gone forty eight hours. But he's coming with us out to the Winters place to search there. Dad's got a couple of the neighbors coming, too."  
As soon as Brody had arrived at the Kent house with the news his grandfather was missing, the Kents had gone out to Jasper's farm. They had found no sign of the old man. In the barn his cows had been lowing mournfully, demanding their evening milking, a sure sign that the old man had been gone for several hours.  
Martha and Chloe had gone with Brody to break the news as gently as possible to Mrs. Winters. Clark and his father had searched the Jasper farm as best they could, but armed only with flashlights there was no way two men could search the acres of farmland effectively. The next morning, when a more thorough search had turned up empty and Arthur Jasper still had not returned, Jonathan had called the local police.  
"Clark, don't you think it's a little bit suspicious that Arthur Jasper disappears the day before he'd going to testify against LexCorp?"  
"It's not a trial, Chloe, and Lex isn't the Mob," Clark said grumpily. "He doesn't bump people off."  
"I'm not saying he does, but it looks bad. And there's something else, Clark."  
The young man rubbed his eyes. "Now what?"  
"I saw Pete on my way in. Someone threw a brick through the Ross' front window last night. He was pretty upset."  
"God." Clark felt ill. "Who would do something like that? Was there was note or anything?"  
"No. But I'll bet it was someone who doesn't like how Judge Ross is handling the hearing. The Ross' called the cops but they didn't find anything else suspicious."  
"What a mess. What a total mess."  
"I hear you, Clark. Keep me posted on how the search goes."  
"I will."  
"And Clark? I called A.J. last night. He said he'd be happy to help you guys look for Mr. Jasper."  
"Do you think that's a good idea, Chloe? After all, he's." Clark caught himself just in time. "He's, uh, staying with the Luthors, after all."  
"Look, you need all the extra help you can get, right? I gotta go- promise to call me on my cell when you can."  
"I will," Clark vowed. He hung up and went to the table. His father and the sheriff were looking at local maps.  
"I agree-it isn't like Arthur," Ethan commiserated. "But we didn't find any signs of foul play at his place."  
"He wouldn't have just taken off, not without telling me or Mom," Brody said sharply. "I'm telling you, something's happened to him."  
Jonathan laid a consoling hand on the young man's arm. "Think, Brody, would Arthur have been out at your place?"  
"He's been there every morning, to help get Mom's breakfast." For a moment Brody's eyes brimmed with tears. "She's been having a hard time getting up in the mornings." He swiped at his eyes angrily. "Why are we just waiting around? Why don't you go ask Luthor what happened? I bet he'd know."  
Ethan sat up straighter in his chair. "Now, son, you have every right to be upset, but you know you can't go around making unfounded accusations like that."  
"And we've got to plan out a search like this, if we're going to cover all five acres your Dad bought effectively. I think if Sampson and Redding show up, we should have about half a dozen people there," Jonathan added. "Ethan and I have figured out the best routes to take, so we don't all end up covering the same ground." He stood and set his coffee mug in the sink. "We'd best get going."  
As the Kent pickup turned in to the muddy driveway of the Winters place, Clark was relieved to see several trucks waiting. Sure enough, several of Jim Winter's former neighbors had abandoned their own farms for the day to help in the search. Molly Winters stood on the porch. Wrapped in a heavy shawl, she looked frail and haggard. Clark couldn't imagine what she was going through-first she had lost her husband, and now her father was missing.  
"Who the blazes is that?" As he parked the truck Clark's dad gestured in the direction of a black Mercedes Benz. The sides were now splashed with a bit of mud, but the car still looked sleek and shiny. Clearly one of Lex's less flashy acquisitions. On the hood A.J. sat with his sister.  
"I'll explain in a minute, Dad." Clark hopped out and went to speak to them. A.J. smiled warmly.  
"Hey, Clark. I heard you needed some help, and Catherine wanted to come, too."  
The doctor had drawn her hair back into a braid, and both the Carter's were dressed in jeans and boots. But they still looked out of place. The locals were regarding them with suspicion.  
"Lex said to tell you to call him at the plant if there's anything he can do," A.J. said in a softer tone. He glanced nervously at the other men. "Obviously he didn't think it would be a good idea to come himself."  
"It wouldn't have been," Clark commiserated. As his father strode forward he held out a hand.  
"Dad, this is A.J. Carter. You remember-I told you about him."  
As realization dawned, Jonathan Kent's expression softened. He shook hands with the boy. "Yes, I remember."  
Thirteen years before the Kents, through no fault of their own, had become involved in concealing the adoption of Lucas Luthor. Clark knew his father's conscience still bothered him. He wondered if seeing Lucas-now A.J.-alive and well would be any consolation.  
A.J. introduced his sister, and then Jonathan Kent introduced both of them to the other men, saying simply that they were visitors in town who wanted to help. No one challenged his explanation.  
Any animosity towards the Carters was soon forgotten as Jonathan and the sheriff organized everyone into groups of two and threes. The Winter's property, too rocky to farm, was covered with hills and depressions, as well as several creeks that trickled out of the old quarry some miles away. As he glanced over his father's shoulder at a topographical map of the area, Clark wondered how on earth they were going to be able to find anything. He wished for one wild moment there was some way he could get high enough above the land to search it effectively, but of course that wasn't possible. The Smallville Sheriff's Department wasn't big enough to have a helicopter; LexCorp had one, but of course Clark didn't dare suggest asking for it.  
"Clark, take A.J. and Catherine with you and search the west side of the property, back past the tree line. You three have young, sharp eyes." As he spoke, Jonathan fixed his son with a steady gaze, and Clark nodded quickly.  
"I understand, Dad." Of course Clark was best suited to search in the place with the most ground cover-his special vision would make the job considerably easier.  
The three young people had the longest walk, all the way across the Winters' land to where cleared land gave way to forest. As they walked they exchanged few words: the two Carters seemed subdued, and Clark wasn't really in the mood for conversation either. He kept hoping for the best, that Mr. Jasper would turn up any moment, but his heart was already heavy.  
  
As they moved deeper into the trees, past the white stakes marking the property line, the air grew cooler. The dampness from recent rains hadn't yet evaporated, and far in the distance they could hear the trickling of water.  
"I thought there weren't supposed to be any trees in Kansas," A.J. grumbled as they clambered over a particularly large fallen tree.  
"In most places there isn't, not anymore. But this land was never cleared for farming-it's not good for anything but the occasional hiking trip," Clark explained.  
After nearly of hour of fruitless searching they decided to split up and search, being careful not to get out of shouting range from one another. With A.J. and Catherine further away, Clark could now give his vision free range, scanning the trees and clumps of underbrush for any signs of the old man. He was focusing intently on a particularly dense clump of bushes some twenty feet away when A.J. suddenly reappeared at his elbow.  
"What are you doing?" He asked curiously. "You had the weirdest look on you face just then."  
"Um, just.lost in thought, I guess." Clark heart was thumping in his chest. "Any luck?"  
"Not a bit. Look, do you think it's possible Mr. Jasper went someplace, like into Metropolis or something, and everyone's overreacting?"  
Clark shook his head. "He wouldn't have gone out without telling his daughter or his grandson. And a farmer never leaves his animals alone without making arrangements for them."  
"Guess I'll have to trust you on that one, Clark." A.J. sighed. He scuffed his shoes in the damp earth. "And I'll bet people already blame Lex, right?"  
"It looks bad." Clark unconsciously echoed Chloe's words.  
"I'm his alibi-he was home last night," A.J. said a trifle hotly. "In fact, all he's done since Mr. Winter's funeral is go to work and come home. He's hasn't even been to the Talon because he doesn't want his presence to drive off whatever business is left."  
  
"Look, I didn't mean." "Judge Ross told him it would be better not to come to the hearing, so he's staying away from there, too," A.J. fumed. "The whole town's treating my brother like he's a leper."  
"A.J., slow down," Clark advised; the other boy was now stalking angrily a few feet ahead of him. "You need to understand-things between the town and the Luthors have always been kind of complicated."  
"Complicated?" A.J. said over his shoulder. "Complicated how?"  
"It's a really, really long story. I--watch out!"  
A.J., who had been looking back at Clark, wasn't watching where he was going, and the ground suddenly sloped downwards before him. A.J. led out a yelp, but fortunately the drop was only a few feet and he landed on his backside, unhurt.  
Clark carefully half-walked, half-slid down the muddy slope, but A.J. was already on his feet, brushing himself off.  
"Are you ok?"  
"Yep. Just a little startled. I."  
A.J. suddenly trailed off, and Clark followed his gaze.  
Clearly they had found one of the old creek beds-a trickle of water ran through the shallow gully, no doubt a product of the recent rains. And lying facedown in that water was the body of a man.  
"Is it.?" A.J. trailed off.  
"I can't tell from here." Clark took a cautious step toward the still form. "We should, um, turn him over, I guess. Maybe there's something we can do."  
"Maybe," A.J. agreed, although it was clear to both boys from the horrible stillness of the form that there was no life left in it.  
"Cate!" C'mere, quick!" A.J. called for his sister, and then moved to stand next to Clark. The two of them looked down at the body helplessly for a long moment, and then at each other.  
"So I guess we need to turn him over," A.J. repeated.  
"I guess."  
Clark had just reached down with a tentative hand when Catherine's voice, slightly out of breath, rang out sharply from behind him.  
"Don't touch him, Clark! Both of you, move back," she ordered.  
The two young men did as she bade them. The doctor had clearly rushed to get to them, because there were leaves clinging to her fair hair; nonetheless she was all business as she produced as pair of gloves from her pocket.  
"They're not latex, but they're better than nothing," she said.  
Clark felt a little queasy, wondering if Catherine, being a physician, always automatically expected the worst.  
He watched as she carefully and slowly turned over the body, and then glanced away quickly as Mr. Jasper's face, mottled blue and white with wide, staring eyes, swam into few. Rivulets of something black encrusted his mouth and nose.  
A.J., now positively green, moved hastily to the other side of the wash. Catherine looked at Clark sympathetically. "Is it him?"  
Clark nodded. When he spoke his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. "Can you.?" He trailed off.  
The older woman shook her head. "I'm sorry. He's obviously been dead for some hours." She carefully laid a hand over the dead man's eyes, closing them.  
"We'd best get your father and the sheriff as quickly as possible." Catherine advised. "The police are going to want to investigate, and we'll need the coroner. Why don't you and A.J."  
"No," Clark interrupted. "I'll be faster on my own."  
Catherine looked at him a little oddly, but nodded. "All right." She glanced over at her brother, who was rocking on his feet.  
"A.J., sit down before you fall down."  
Clark carefully climbed out of the gully, but as soon as he was out of sight he began to run as fast as he could. It felt good to be moving as far away from the scene as possible, with the trees turning to blurs around him. It only took him a few seconds to reach the far right side of the property. Careful to slow down before he was seen, he walked around the tool shed and found his father and Mr. Redding still examining the map.  
Jonathan Kent took one look at his son's face and dropped the map. "Clark, did you find something?"  
Clark nodded. "We found him. About a mile back in the trees, in a shallow wash. Dr. Carter says there's nothing we can do, but she wants you to come."  
"I'd better radio this in," Ethan said sadly. "Then, Clark, I want you to show me exactly where the body is."  
While Ethan walked to his patrol car, Clark shivered a bit.  
"I'm no expert, Dad, but it looked to me like whatever killed Mr. Winters killed Mr. Jasper."  
Jonathan laid his arm across his son's broad shoulder. "Take it easy, Clark. You've had a bad shock. Let's not jump to any conclusions."  
The sheriff reappeared, clapping his broad-brimmed hat back on his head. "Ambulance and my deputies are on the way," he reported. He turned kind eyes on Clark. All right, son, I want you to take your Dad and me back to the doctor. Think you can do that?"  
Clark nodded. Now he knew where he was going he reached where the body lay much quicker. He stood to one side with his father while the sheriff and Dr. Carter spoke in hushed tones next to the body.  
"I don't want either of you to come any closer," the sheriff told them. "We don't want any more sets of footprints then absolutely necessary."  
Next to them A.J. shivered, and Jonathan took off his jacket and wrapped it around then thin young man. A.J. gave a ghost of a smile.  
"Thanks. I guess she's used to this kind of thing," he nodded in the direction of his sister, "but I'm not."  
After what seemed like an eternity, one of the Lowell County deputies appeared.  
"Sheriff, the coroner and the crime scene team are here."  
"Good." Ethan stood and brushed off his hands. He had been careful not to touch Jasper's body, but Clark could tell he was still nervous. "Tell the coroner we might have something contagious here; I want everyone to take the necessary precautions, you hear me?"  
The deputy glanced at the body. "Yes, sir."  
Ethan turned his attention back to the Kents and A.J.  
"Jonathan, why don't you take the boys home. They've seen enough for one day." He glanced back at the doctor, who was still kneeling next to the body, a puzzled look on her face. "You reckon that's safe?"  
"Hmm? I suppose so. There's no way to know the cause of death at this point, but just in case I want you boys to wash your hands with lots of soap and hot water. Ditto for the clothes you have on now. Understood?"  
Both Clark and A.J. nodded.  
"Will you be all right here?" A.J. asked tentatively.  
His older sister smiled. "Of course. Aren't I always?"  
"Yeah, yeah, I know," A.J. grumbled, sounding a bit like his old self. "But it doesn't hurt to ask."  
"Ethan, about Molly.?" Jonathan began, but the sheriff shook his head.  
"I'm sorry, Jonathan, but I want to break the news to Molly and Brody. This is officially a police investigation now."  
"I understand. Clark, A.J., let's go."  
As the two young men followed Mr. Kent pass the arriving investigators, A.J. looked at the older man curiously.  
"What's going to happen now?"  
"I can't say as I know, A.J.," Jonathan said tiredly. "I wish to God I did, but I don't."  
  
*************************************************  
"All rise, District Court number 36 now in session, the Honorable Judge Katherine Ross presiding."  
Chloe hastily stuffed her Geometry homework back in her bag. She sighed in relief-for a while there she'd been afraid they would have to wait until the next day for the judge's opinion.  
Poor Judge Ross, she looks exhausted, Chloe thought. But then she must have been up half the night dealing with the police. Good thing this morning's testimony was such a snooze fest.  
The day before, the hearing had been characterized by a lot of nasty accusations directed at LexCorp and LuthorCorp. But this morning had been the complete opposite. Several men who worked at LexCorp took the stand in defense of the company. A LexCorp lawyer produced charts and graphs supposedly showing LexCorp's excellent safety record. Both Mr. Harmon, who owed the grocery store downtown, and Mr. Sutherland, of the Smallville Savings and Loan, had testified at length that LexCorp was a boon to the community, not a threat. Of course it was obvious that the plant workers would want to do everything they could to save their jobs, and everyone knew Lionel Luthor owed the Savings and Loan, but still.All in all Chloe had to admit they had made some pretty convincing arguments against closing the plant.  
Just before lunch, when no one else had come forward wanting to speak, Judge Ross had announced a recess until she rendered her opinion. Chloe had taken the opportunity to frantically work on the homework Lana had brought home for her, but her mind was really more on what was happening in the judge's chambers. Chloe couldn't imagine have to make the kind of decisions Judge Ross was called upon to make everyday. No, all in all she'd stick to journalism, thank you very much.  
Now she watched eagerly, pen poised, to hear what Judge Ross would say. An unearthly quiet settled over the courtroom. Chloe couldn't help sneaking a glance at the empty chair where Brody Winters had sat yesterday, hoping he'd finally had some good news and they'd found Mr. Jasper.  
Judge Ross opened a folder and began reading.  
"As you all know, this court has been petitioned to issue an injunction temporarily closing LexCorp, formerly known as LuthorCorp. In accordance with state law the public has had the last two days to participate in this hearing, but the final decision rests with the court. We have heard speakers both passionately condemn and defend the company that had been so much a part of out lives, for good or ill, these thirteen years. Evidence presenting during this hearing suggests that the environmental record of this plant is certainly blemished; you have heard a spokesperson for the EPA testify to that fact."  
Several people in the audience stirred excitedly, but the judge continued.  
"However, we have also heard that LuthorCorp paid its fines, and since becoming LexCorp has submitted to regular safety inspections, all of which it has passed." The judge paused for a moment, studying the faces around her. "The tragic events surrounding Mr. James Winter's death have proved extremely divisive. Indeed, that divisiveness has deeply affected my own family. I know, better than many of you, the role of LuthorCorp and LexCorp in this community." She smiled wryly. "But as an officer of the court I have to set aside those feelings in favor of a pure weighing of the facts. And the facts are clear."  
Chloe found herself holding her breath.  
"In spite of testimony presented here, the weight of the facts falls in one direction. This court rules that, whatever it may have done in its former incarnation, LexCorp is not a danger to human health. Petition for injunction denied."  
Judge Ross banged the gavel, and an immediate roar of voices engulfed the courtroom. LexCorp's lawyers and employees were beaming; townspeople were arguing heatedly with each other about the merits of the decision; and off to one side, the members of the EDAL looked angry and stunned.  
Chloe wasn't quite sure how to feel as she grabbed her bag and made a beeline to the parking lot, determined to write her article while it was all still fresh in her mind. On the one hand she was relieved her father would still have a job in the morning, and that Lex hadn't lost what he'd been working so hard to build.  
On the other, she mused as she started her old car, judging by the looks on the EDAL"s faces, maybe Smallville hadn't seen the end of the matter. Maybe things were about to get a whole lot worse. ********************************************  
  
The old pickup turned off the gravel road and stopped next to a beat-up sedan. Brody Winters quickly shut off his headlights, and glanced cautiously at the figure leaning against the other car.  
He jumped out of his truck. Without headlights the darkness was nearly total, and he could barely make out the face of the man opposite. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment.  
"You're younger than I thought you'd be," Brody finally said.  
"How old does someone need to be?" Rich Erickson said laconically, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.  
"I didn't come here to chat. Maybe you didn't hear, but now isn't a good time for my family," Winters said angrily. "My grandfather's dead, and my mom's in the hospital in shock."  
"No, I did hear. My condolences," Erickson said, almost as an afterthought. "But this couldn't wait. You heard about Judge Ross' ruling?"  
"Yeah," the other man ground out bitterly. "I thought maybe."  
"You thought throwing a brick through the Ross' window would scare her off? Make her see the light? Is that what you thought?"  
Brody was startled. "How did you know about.?"  
"About your little stunt? C'mon, Mr. Winters, I've been involved in the cause a lot longer than you have. We at the EDAL cover all our bases. We also know that childish little stunts don't change the world. It takes something big, something monumental, to do that."  
In the distance an owl hooted, and Brody shuddered a little in the cold. He'd been up for hours, days, it seemed. Had it been only a few days ago that he'd been at school, and everything had been right with his world? And then.  
"Why did you call me here? You better not be thinking blackmail, because my family doesn't have anything left to give, believe me"  
"You're thinking small again, Brody. I asked you here because I want you to know that LexCorp will not go unpunished. If we're to prevent something like this from ever happening again they must be made an example."  
"Do?" Brody laughed out loud. "What can a bunch of tree-hugging freaks do? They've already gotten away with it. They've always gotten away with it."  
In the darkness Erickson's pale eyes gleamed.  
"Not for long, I promise you. We're thinking big now."  
Against his will Brody's heart leapt.  
"How big?" He asked hopefully.  
The other man smiled.  
"Very big. Wait and see." 


	10. ch 10

Lex put his feet up on his desk and looked out over the Luthor gardens. When his father had had the old house relocated to Smallville he'd hired an English architect to landscape what had previously been farmland. The result-lots of fountains, benches, and flowerbeds-was pleasing enough. His own ill-fated wedding had been held there some months before. But Lex often wondered if it was really worth employing an army of gardeners to maintain something neither he nor his father ever used. Of course, that was what Lionel was all about-keeping up appearances. He had wanted his ancestral home to have an English garden-never mind that they were in Kansas, never mind that the money sunk into it every year could fund the economy of a small third-world country. Lionel wanted it that way, and so it was.  
Pulling the phone closer to him, Lex dialed his father's private number at LuthorCorp. As part of his security precautions, when he traveled Lionel never shared his exact location with anyone. But since he still wanted to monitor his business-and his son-he had arranged to have an elaborate relay system installed. Lex entered his password, and waited patiently while the beeps on the other end signaled his call was being sent by satellite to his father's secure phone.  
After several long minutes it rang, and someone at the other end answered.  
"Who shall I say is calling, please?" "Charles, tell him that his son wants to speak to him."  
"Of course, Mr. Luthor. Please hold a moment."  
Lex smiled to himself while his father's valet went to fetch his employer. He'd managed to time his overseas call just right-it was early enough in the morning that his father was awake, but not yet out of his hotel room.  
His father's voice finally came on the line. Lex turned on the speakerphone.  
"Lex. It's nice to hear from you."  
"You've only been gone two weeks, Dad. How's London?"  
"Damp and cold, as always."  
Lionel had never been much for small talk.  
"And what do the doctors say?"  
"They're still running tests. But I don't imagine you called to inquire about my health, son."  
Lex sighed. His father was right, of course, but his lack of subtlety was annoying. Just once it would be nice to have an ordinary conversation with his father, about anything, the way he'd seen normal fathers and sons do. Every word he exchanged with Lionel always had to drip with hidden meaning. It was a constant duel, and sometimes Lex found it exhausting.  
"I heard the injunction was denied. Well done, Lex."  
"I think Judge Ross had more to do with it than I did."  
"Yes, I was a bit surprised, given our history with the Ross', but then they could always been counted on to cling to their outmoded sense of right and wrong."  
"Which we, of course, never do. You know, Dad, you could have spared me all this."  
On the other end of the phone Lionel laughed. "I? What could I have done?"  
"You could have been honest with me about Level 3 before I sent my workers in there."  
"Lex, the Winters man's death had nothing to do with Level 3, I assure you."  
"So now you're omnipotent?"  
"I had my scientists read the autopsy report. There's no connection."  
"If your scientists are anything like your lawyers you'll have to forgive me for being skeptical about their opinions."  
"My lawyers were only trying to protect LuthorCorp from your folly, Lex. You were the one who insisted on starting your own company; you should have been prepared for the consequences."  
"You're hardly one who should be talking about accepting responsibility for your past actions," Lex said bitterly.  
He could tell he'd gone too far.  
Lionel was silent for a long moment. "And what exactly does that mean?"  
Lex remembered his vow to keep A.J. away from their father for as long as possible, and bit his tongue.  
"It means there's been a second death here, and, injunction or not, people are still pointing their fingers at us. And that includes LuthorCorp whether you like it or not."  
"Lex, I'm telling you, you are looking for something that simply isn't there. Level 3 was a failed experiment, true, but it used nothing that would have affected human health, Earl Jenkins' ridiculous assertions aside. Who was it this time?"  
"A farmer. Winters' father-in-law."  
"Well, there you are then. No doubt the family suffers from some kind of degenerative disease and saw their opportunity to cash in. I suspect the injunction was only a prelude to a wrongful death suit. I hope your lawyers are still there."  
Of course Lex's lawyers were still in Smallville, working overtime not only to salvage the company's image but also to get the remaining Winters family members their insurance benefits as quickly as possible. They would need it-Martha Kent had told him Mrs. Winters, a Type I diabetic, was back in the hospital and back on dialysis. The family's bills were piling up. But Lex felt his father didn't need to know any of that. Lex thought of it as the humane thing to do, but no doubt Lionel would call his son's actions weak. There wasn't a compassionate bone in Lionel Luthor's body.  
"Dad, I'm going to ask you one more time. Tell me what you were working on at the plant. If I feel it really wasn't involved in these deaths it will go no further," Lex said seriously.  
Lionel only laughed.  
"Lex, you really mustn't be so naïve. I have a responsibility to LuthorCorp that does not permit me to reveal our projects to outsiders. I'm sorry, son."  
Lex knew his father wasn't sorry at all. "Afraid of corporate espionage, Dad?"  
"Of course not." But this time there was a bit of edge in Lionel's voice that signaled Lex had struck a nerve.  
Good, Lex thought to himself.  
"I have nothing more to say to you on this matter, Lex. I'll see you when I get home next week."  
"Of course, Dad. Have a safe trip." Resigned, Lex hit the disconnect button on the phone and sat for a long moment staring out the window.  
"Ahem."  
At the sound of a throat being cleared he turned his chair back around to see his brother standing by the door.  
"A.J. How long have you been standing there?"  
"Just a few minutes; I didn't think I should interrupt." The younger man had a strange expression on his face. "Was that, um, him?"  
"It was."  
"Hmm. So, um, how did it go?"  
Lex stood. "He's no more forthcoming now that he was before he left. He's still insisting he knows nothing about what might have killed the two men." Lex fixed a sharp look at his younger sibling, remembering how pale and bedraggled he had been when the Kent's had brought him home the night before. "How are you feeling?"  
A.J. rolled his eyes. "I feel fine-I wish you and Catherine would stop hovering around me."  
"I'm sure you're fine, but I am sorry you had to see what you did." Catherine had given Lex a vivid description of the scene. He had to admit A.J. must be tougher than he looked to be so calm about finding a corpse in the woods.  
"I'm not thrilled with the experience, but I am glad he was found," A.J. shrugged. "So he can go back to his family and have a proper burial and all. Mr. Kent was telling me everything Mrs. Winters and Brody have had to go through, and I feel terrible for them. Did you know Mr. Kent had known Mr. Winters their whole lives?"  
"Doesn't surprise me." Lex leaned on the edge of the desk. "Jonathan Kent knows everyone in this town. It's a very small pond, so to speak." He raised his eyebrows slightly. "So did he say anything else?"  
"Just that you-we--should be careful. He doesn't think Judge Ross's decision will be an end to it."  
"That does seem to be the consensus."  
A.J. chewed his lip for a moment. "Lex, I was thinking last night-I know you don't want to leave the plant and all but maybe we could go into Metropolis for a few days. Have dinner, maybe catch a Sharks game.you've been cooped up here all week."  
Lex smiled, but shook his head. "Your sentiment is appreciated, A.J., but no. Leaving town now will look like an admission of guilt."  
"But Judge Ross cleared you."  
"Maybe so. But as Jonathan Kent suggested, it will take a lot more to clear LexCorp in the hearts and minds of Smallville's residents." He smiled at his brother. "No, I refuse to leave town as if I have something to be ashamed of. In fact, I'm overdue to visit the Talon and see how business is going there."  
A.J. looked a little cheered at this news. "Since you're going into town, I was wondering I you could drop me by the high school."  
"Planning on picking up a few extra units?"  
"No." He held up a crumpled piece of paper. "Cate left a note for me; Clark called and asked me to meet him there when school was out. Which, judging from my watch, should be about now." He frowned at his brother. "Where did Cate go, anyway?"  
"She said something about wanting to speak to the coroner again. I guess she wasn't satisfied with his opinion on what might have killed Mr. Jasper."  
A.J. shuddered visibly at the memory. "I hope she knows what she's getting into."  
"I hope you know what you're getting into," Lex told his brother. "Clark may have been the one that called, but my guess is Chloe Sullivan is the one who wants to talk to you. Like I said, she's a nice kid, but Chloe has a knack for finding trouble unlike anyone I've ever seen, A.J. Don't let her drag all of you into it with her."  
"Understood," A.J. nodded. "Now how about that ride?" ****************************************  
  
At his desk in the Talon offices Clark stared at his computer screen. He was trying to write up an account of the search party the day before, but he found he couldn't concentrate. Instead he kept flashing on Arthur Jasper's blue face, upturned to the sky.He looked like he had died in agony. Even though the coroner said it looked like whatever had happened had been quick, Clark still couldn't get it out of his mind. He'd tossed and turned all night, and then half-slept through most of his classes.  
The phone rang, and Chloe drove for it.  
"Talon offices. Hey, Pete, where are you?"  
At the mention of his friend's name Clark looked up.  
"Uh huh, he's working on it now. No, we don't know anything more yet. Yes, I'm still looking at the stuff from the County Department of Health. No, no, we totally understand. Yes, I'm sure. Here, tell him yourself."  
Chloe held the receiver out to Clark, who took it.  
"Hey, Pete, what's up?"  
"Hey, man, sorry I'm not there. But Dad and I felt.well, we kinda felt like sticking close to home today. Since the verdict came down yesterday and all."  
"I'd probably do the same thing. Nothing else has happened, has it?"  
"No, but we're all still pretty jumpy."  
Clark leaned back in his chair. "A brick through the window in the middle of the night would make anyone jumpy."  
"The cops think it was a prank, too much trial publicity. Mom's just happy it's over."  
"We all are."  
"So, anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth or anything. I should be back at school tomorrow."  
"Cool. And Pete?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Tell your mom I think what she did was really brave."  
Clark could tell Pete was smiling. "She did her job, Clark."  
"It was still pretty brave. See you tomorrow, man."  
Hanging up, Clark glanced over at his editor. "Pete's taking things pretty well."  
"Yeah, I'm planning on writing an editorial on how someone tried to intimidate the judge, and she made her decision anyway." Chloe leaned over his monitor. "C'mon, Clark, you can do better than that. You've only got a few dozen words there!"  
"I'm still sorting it out in my head, Chloe. It's not every day you find someone you know dead in the woods."  
She quickly re-read his words. "And you're sure the sheriff didn't find anything suspicious?"  
"He said we'd left too many footprints in the mud to know if anyone else had been there." Clark cringed a bit. "But I don't think he found anything strange."  
"Hmm. I wonder what Mr. Jasper was doing clear out there? I mean, that isn't even part of the Winters property."  
"Does anyone own it?"  
Chloe gestured to the large map of Smallville she had tacked to the wall; she kept it around to mark known meteor strikes and the locations of strange incidents.  
"See for yourself. The woods and everything east to the quarry are state land."  
"So the Luthors had nothing to do with them."  
"Unless you consider illegal dumping. Which I wouldn't put past them."  
"You wouldn't put what past who?"  
They both looked up to see A.J. leaning against the doorframe.  
"Nothing." Chloe grinned. "C'mon in. You look at lot better than Clark does."  
"Thanks a lot," Clark grumbled. Sometimes he wondered if Chloe thought he had no ego at all.  
"I got twelve hours sleep," A.J. shrugged. "Clark's the one that had to slog through a day at school. What time did you get to bed, man?"  
"One, maybe two a.m." After his dad had taken them home and they'd both changed, one of the sheriffs' deputies appeared to take their statements. Each of the boys had been grilled separately, reviewing every minute detail of what had happened in the woods. At about 8 p.m. the sheriff himself had shown up, and the whole process had started over again.  
"Anyway, thanks for coming," Clark smiled. "I'm hoping your memory's sharper than mine so I can make deadline."  
"Not a problem." A.J. grabbed a chair next to Clark, prepared to help with the article, but Chloe had other plans.  
"So, A.J., does Lex feel he's off the hook?" She blurted abruptly.  
The other boy looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"  
"Since Mr. Jasper never worked for either LuthorCorp or LexCorp, his death would seem to be unrelated either company. In which case Mr. Winters death might be unrelated, too."  
A.J. frowned. "We'd have to wait for the coroner's report to be sure of that, wouldn't we?"  
"The circumstantial evidence is strong, though," Chloe asserted. "And after the injunction failed the EDAL cleared out of town, so they seem to think so, too."  
"But if the coroner couldn't figure out what killed Mr. Winters he probably won't know what killed Mr. Jasper, either. So we may never know for certain." Clark rubbed his eyes, and then glanced at the piles of papers on Chloe's desk.  
"Are you sure there isn't anything in your research that might shed some light on things, Chloe? Anything at all?"  
"They're government documents, Clark," she sighed. "The language in them is so vague they don't really say much at all. And you need a medical dictionary to understand the autopsy report."  
A.J. was thoughtful for a moment. "Or a medical doctor."  
Chloe looked at him. "What are you getting at?"  
"Well, my sister Cate was there, too, yesterday. And something must have sparked her curiosity because she went back to see the coroner again today." He eyed the stack of papers. "She could tell us if there's anything suspicious hidden in all that mumbo jumbo."  
Chloe's face positively lit up.  
"Of course, I'd forgotten she was a doctor! Do you think she would?"  
"She might, if I bugged her enough. And I'm pretty good at that, if I do say so myself."  
"Oh, A.J., that would be fantastic!"  
Clark frowned.  
"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves, guys. Even if Cate-I mean Dr. Carter-helps we still have to wait on Mr. Jasper's autopsy."  
"Which Dr. Carter is perfectly positioned to see before it's released to the public," Chloe stated. "It's absolutely perfect, A.J., thank you."  
"You're welcome, Chloe." A.J. grinned.  
Clark just shook his head. ********************************************  
  
Lana carefully set the last muffin into place in the display and stood back to admire her handiwork. True, food sales had dropped off a bit now there was no apple pie on the menu, but there were still plenty of people looking for a sugar fix as well as a caffeine one. Around her the Talon buzzed with the usual after school crowd, and she couldn't help smiling to herself. Business was back up where it had been before the EDAL came to town. There didn't seem to be any hard feelings from her customers, either, so the little smear campaign appeared to have failed.  
But the clearest sign things were back to normal was when her silent partner reappeared.  
"Business appears to have picked up again," Lex said with a smile.  
"Just about. It was rough the first few days, but we managed. Did you get the last set of receipts I sent out to your place?"  
"I did. Thank you for doing so. I didn't think it would be in the best interests of your business if I came myself."  
"You would have been welcome anyway, Lex, you know that," Lana smiled. "And you've obviously changed your mind."  
"I have. I thought perhaps I'd take a leaf out of your book and refuse to be intimidated."  
"Good." Lana laughed at the thought of Lex ever being intimidated by anything. "Would you like something?"  
"Actually, I'm just waiting for Clark and A.J.there they are."  
Lana could easily see Clark's dark head over the crowd, and she waved for him to come over.  
"It's nice to see the place full again," Clark said with a grin.  
"It is, isn't it? I guess my loyal fans weren't scared away after all."  
"More likely it was just the whackos with the pickets who scared them," A.J. offered. "Hey, Lex, ready to go?"  
"I am. And, Lana, again, you did a great job holding things together here on your own."  
She knew Lex prized independence in his employees, so she smiled. "Thank you. But after all the work I've put in on this place I wasn't about to let those creeps win."  
"Well said," Lex nodded.  
As the two other men threaded their way back through the crowd Clark smiled again.  
"You really did do an amazing job, Lana. You know, you're a lot stronger than you look."  
Lana made a face. "Thanks, Clark."  
Clark blushed a little. "I just mean, well, a lot of people in town have opted to just stay out of this whole mess, to take the easy way out. But you didn't. Even with protestors on your doorstep. When it came down to it you stood up for something you care about. And that's pretty amazing."  
Lana wondered for a moment what his slightly wistful expression meant.  
"Clark." she began.  
She was stopped in mid-sentence as a loud explosion shook the building. Startled patrons dropped their mugs, and some of the girls cried out in fear.  
"What was that?"  
Clark looked at her, wide-eyed. "Call 911," he told her. He pushed his way through the crowd.  
"Call 911," Lana told one of her waitresses. She ran after Clark. Elbowing through the patrons she could see the glass in the front doors was shattered. She hastily wrapped her apron around her hand so she could open the door without being cut.  
"Everyone, stay inside," she ordered as best she could above the confusion.  
She stopped short, looking at a smoldering piece of metal that had once been a car. Like the front doors, its windows were shattered, and the paint was charred and bubbling in places.  
Lana's stomach rolled over, as horrible memories came flooding back. But then, through the blood rushing in her ears, she heard Clark's voice.  
"Lana, come quick, I need you."  
She forced her feet to move. Clark was kneeling next to a prone figure in the street, and as he looked up she could see the genuine fear on his face. In the distance they could hear sirens.  
Lex, looking dazed, sat on the sidewalk. She gently touched his shoulder, and he looked at her without recognition in his eyes.  
"Lex? What happened?" When he didn't respond she turned her eyes back to Clark, who was pressing the edge of his t-shirt against A.J.'s forehead. The boy lay totally still. "Oh, god, what happened? Is he all right?"  
. "His head's bleeding and I don't dare move him," Clark said in a half- whisper "Lex was thrown clear but I think A.J.'s head hit the curb."  
Lana looked again at the ruined car. They were only a few yards from it; she could see the Metropolis vanity plates that read "Lex4."  
"Clark, do you think.was someone trying to kill Lex?"  
Clark's mouth was drawn into a grim line. "It looks like it to me. But they may have killed A.J. instead." 


	11. ch 11

Lex paced up and down in the hallway outside of Smallville General's emergency room. The ambulance had taken both he and A.J. here, but Lex had refused any medical attention. Except for a ringing in his ears and a bruised back from where he had hit the sidewalk, he felt all right.  
The doctors had refused to let him stay with A.J., and the last time he had seen his brother the emergency room staff had been cutting away his shirt and fastening a heart monitor and an IV to his inert body.  
A.J. hadn't regained consciousness yet, but the paramedics had told Lex he was still breathing on his own, a good sign.  
As he paced he periodically glanced over to where Catherine sat. He had had Clark call her as soon as they'd reached the hospital, and she'd been there only a few minutes later. As she came through the doors of the waiting room she had given Lex a look of such loathing that he hadn't attempted to say anything to her. The doctor's hadn't allowed Cate to be with her brother-their brother-either. She sat now in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Lana sat next to her, speaking softly.  
Clark was deep in conversation with one of the sheriff's deputies. Lex had given his statement, but it had been brief: all he could remember was that he and A.J. had been having a friendly argument about who would get to drive. Lex had relented and tossed his brother the keys to the Porsche, which was why A.J. had been closer to the car when the bomb had gone off. Both of them had been far enough away to be thrown clear of the blast itself, but A.J. had struck his head on the concrete curb.  
Did he know of anyone who'd want to hurt him or Mr. Carter? The deputy had asked.  
Lex hadn't been sure how to answer that. He could think of quite a few people, actually, starting with the EDAL and ending with their father. But he didn't tell the police officer about Lionel. The deputy had promised him they were looking for Rich Erickson and whichever members of the EDAL might still be around, for questioning.  
What remained of his Porsche would be towed to the police impound lot in Metropolis, to be examined by experts to determine what had caused the blast. Lex wondered if whoever had set the bomb had remained nearby to watch his or her handiwork. If so, then he or she knew the attempt had failed. Which could only mean there would be more.  
"Lex?"  
He looked up to see Lana holding out a styrofoam cup. "It's not exactly a latte, but it's hot."  
He accepted the cup, and stared down into the murky brown brew. "Thank you." He nodded in the direction of Catherine. "How is she holding up?"  
Lana sighed. "She's surprisingly calm. I'm not sure if I was any help, though; I couldn't tell her much about what happened. But I guess, being a doctor, she knows better than we do what's going on in there." She gestured towards the closed emergency room doors.  
"I suppose." Lex took a sip of coffee, and winced. "It's definitely hot, I'll give it that."  
Clark came to stand beside them. "Deputy Ruthers is going now, but they want us to stay put until the sheriff talks to us." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Lana, you should call Mr. Sullivan, let him know where you are. And I should call my mom and dad."  
Lex handed Lana his cell phone, and as she crossed the room in search of better reception Clark looked at Lex sympathetically.  
"Lex? How are you feeling?"  
"I feel fine, Clark."  
"But you're worried about A.J." Clark supplied. "I am, too."  
Lex shook his head. It wasn't the same, and Clark knew it. Lex had lost two family members in his lifetime-first his baby brother, and then his mother. He wasn't sure he could go through that a third time.  
Above anything else in life Lex hated feeling helpless. He supposed he had inherited that from Lionel, who always coped with crisis by burying himself in his work rather than confronting the problem head on. As a sickly, socially inept child Lex had felt helpless most of the time. It was that feeling that, when his mother was dying of heart failure, had driven him to devote so much time to searching for new doctors and new treatments that he hadn't spent enough time with her before the end. He had that same feeling now, wanting desperately to do something, anything. The difference was, now he was old enough to know it was out of his hands.  
"It wasn't your fault, Lex."  
For a moment Lex thought Clark was reading his mind, but then realized he was referring to A.J., not Lex's mother.  
"Whoever set that bomb was trying to get me, Clark. Not A.J." Lex said quietly. "I put him in danger."  
"But you didn't mean to," Clark countered.  
"But I did."  
A white-coated young man appeared in the doorway. "Dr. Carter?"  
Catherine glanced up. "Yes?"  
"I'm Dr. Newburg; I'd like to speak to you about your brother."  
Lana closed Lex's phone and handed it to Clark. "We'll wait outside."  
As the two young people left, the doctor looked expectantly at Lex, but Lex refused to move. Instead he looked at Catherine, who finally sighed.  
"It's all right-he can stay. He's sort of.family."  
Lex wasn't quite sure what to make of that grudging admission, and it was obvious the doctor was puzzled as well.  
"First, the good news. Andrew has a broken collarbone and a couple of cracked ribs. The x-rays show no signs of spinal cord injuries, so we've removed the cervical collar to make him more comfortable. The cat scan also appears to be normal."  
"What's the bad news?"  
"The bad news is that he's still unconscious. We're concerned, given the force of the impact, that he might have a contusion to the brain or possibly bleeding inside the skull."  
"Have you done an MRI yet?"  
The doctor smiled at Catherine. "No, that's our next step. That should pick up anything the CT scan missed."  
Lex unconsciously laid a hand on Catherine's shoulder. It was better news than they could have hoped for, but still.  
"And if you find something on the MRI?"  
"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, Mr. Luthor."  
Lex wasn't surprised the doctor knew who he was-everyone in town did, whether Lex had actually met them or not.  
"Can I see him?" Catherine asked.  
"Of course, but only for a few minutes." He stood and led them back through the double doors into the emergency room. It was late afternoon on a weekday, and all the beds were empty except A.J.s.  
Dr. Newburg pointed at the monitors. "As you can see we're monitoring his heart rate, and his respiration-they're both normal. The IV is giving him saline to prevent shock."  
A.J. looked better without the plastic cervical collar around his neck, but he still looked pale. Bruises had already appeared along the left side of his face, and a patch of gauze covered his left temple.  
"Five stitches," the doctor explained.  
Catherine gingerly took one of her brother's limp hands in her own. "Hey, kiddo," she said softly.  
Feeling as if he was intruding on a private moment, Lex turned back to the physician. "Dr. Newburg, I'm sure you're providing excellent care, but perhaps A.J. should be transferred to Metropolis General. I can have any specialists we need brought there."  
The doctor frowned at him, but it was Catherine who sent him a withering glance.  
"Not now, Lex. They're doing everything that can be done."  
Lex knew better than to push his luck. "We'll talk about it later," he told the doctor, who managed to smile smoothly.  
"Of course."  
Dr. Newburg left, and Lex went to stand on the other side of the bed.  
He frowned down at the brother he'd known only a few weeks.  
"Can he hear us?"  
Catherine shrugged slightly. "Depends on the kind of head injury. But I'm assuming he can." Tears stood in her blue eyes, but she managed to smile.  
"Hey, A.J. Bet you didn't think you'd be back in the emergency room at your age, did you?" She then smiled faintly at Lex. "He spent a lost of time in them as a kid: he was always falling out of trees or running into something on his bike," she explained. She turned her attention back to the boy. "The doctors think you might have a concussion, or maybe some internal bleeding, but as soon as they knew for sure they'll fix you right up. I'm not going to call Amber just yet-you know her, she'd hop on a plane and be here pestering you and trying to spoon-feed you Jell-O before you knew it. We shouldn't make her worry, right?" Catherine wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.  
"Lex is here, too," she added, turning to look at him again. "Do you want to say something to him?" She asked.  
Lex shook his head.  
"No. You do the talking."  
But while Catherine kept talking in her low, soothing voice, Lex took hold of his brother's free hand and held on to it tightly. *****************************************  
  
"This whole thing had gotten ridiculous," Pete groused to Clark as they sat sprawled on the old couch in the Torch office. Clark had just finished relating the whole story of the day before to Pete and Chloe, from the time he'd arrived at the Talon to when his parents came to pick him up from the hospital.  
"The good news is I talked to Lex this morning and the doctors think it's just a bad concussion. A.J. opened his eyes a little bit late last night, but he's still pretty out of it. They're keeping him in the hospital a few more days just to be sure."  
"I'd be pretty out of it, too, if I got body slammed into a chunk of concrete." Chloe chewed her lip. "But I am glad to hear he'll be ok."  
"Worried about your boyfriend?" There was still a bit of an edge in Pete's voice, one that Chloe instantly picked up upon.  
"I've had enough out of you, Pete Ross." She stuck her hands on her hips, a sure sign of anger. "Just because I meet one nice guy out of this whole creep-filled town and hang out with him a few times you two assume I must be madly in love with him. Well, I'm not."  
"Hey, I didn't say anything," Clark protested feebly.  
"Just because you two see me as Velma doesn't mean other guys can't see me as Daphne."  
Pete rolled his eyes, but looked apologetic. "Chloe, I'm sorry. I was out of line." Pete scrunched his shoulders uncomfortably. "I guess this whole thing has got me wigged out a little. Mom's still getting nasty letters from people, saying must be sorry she let LexCorp off so easily now that Mr. Jasper is dead, too."  
Clark, who knew his dad had spent the day before helping Mr. Ross repaint the frame around the Ross' newly repaired picture window, nodded. "Everyone's jumpy, Pete." He looked at Chloe sharply. "And we're worried about A.J., too, you know, Chloe. Nobody deserves to get hurt just because they're in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
"That kid must have had horseshoes in both pockets," Pete nodded.  
Chloe, however, shook her head. "I don't think it was luck that saved Lex and A.J., Pete. I talked to my contact at the impound lot and he said the bomb squad thinks the bomb was deliberately triggered to go of when it did."  
Clark frowned. "That would mean whoever destroyed Lex's Porsche didn't mean to kill him."  
Chloe nodded. "I think it was meant as a warning to Lex."  
"You mean, like, 'Next time it'll be you blown to smithereens?'" Pete asked.  
"Something like that. The problem is, Rich Erickson was in Metropolis giving an interview to the Planet when it happened. That's a pretty airtight alibi. When the sheriff questioned him he had nothing to say about it, and they couldn't hold him."  
"But we know he's gotten away with it before," Clark shook his head. "He shouldn't be able to get away with it this time."  
"Guys, you know I don't like the Luthors, and I don't like Lex," Pete began thoughtfully.  
"Oh, gee, really, Pete? I hadn't noticed," Chloe teased.  
Pete ignored her. "But I'm pretty sure it was Erickson or one of his minions who busted out our window the other night. If they're upping the level of violence against the Luthors I can't help but think my family might be next."  
"Minions?" Clark repeated.  
Pete sighed. "You know what I mean. I wonder what Lex is going to do?"  
"I don't think there's anything he can do, not unless the police come up with some proof it was Erickson who set the bomb and hurt A.J." Chloe leaned against her desk. "But this all comes back to Mr. Winters' death. That's what started this whole thing. If we could just figure out what happened to him, and why, I think we'll be able to unravel this whole mess."  
"I agree."  
The three of them glanced up to see Catherine Carter in the doorway. She looked grown-up and businesslike in a dark suit, and for a moment Clark's heart sunk into his shoes. But then she smiled slightly.  
"It's all right, I'm not bringing any bad news. In fact, my brother is awake and being annoyed by a neurologist as we speak. As long as there aren't any complications from the concussion they said they'd let him go the day after tomorrow."  
Clark took a deep breath. "That's a relief."  
Chloe smiled. "How can we help you, Dr. Carter?"  
The older woman stepped into the room, pausing before Chloe's Wall of Weird. "Actually, I've come to help you. I agree with what you were just saying, Chloe. I think the police and the coroner didn't dig deep enough into what happened to Mr. Winters. I think, maybe, if they had, Mr. Jasper might still be with us." She raised her eyebrows questioningly.  
"I agree," Chloe nodded. She grabbed a stack of papers off her desk. "Before he got hurt A.J. suggested you might be willing to tell us anything you know about Arthur Jasper's death. And I have a copy of Mr. Winters' autopsy report, but I don't really know how to read it." She held out a sheaf of papers, and the other woman accepted it.  
"Where did you get these? You know it's illegal to gain access to another person's medical records, even autopsy records, without their family's consent."  
"I have a source," Chloe said simply.  
Dr. Carter pulled over an office chair and sat down, reading through the report carefully. The three young people waited patiently while she did so. After several long minutes Catherine sighed.  
"Well, it doesn't say much that hasn't been made public. Jim Winters appears to have died of some kind of massive cellular breakdown. What was left of his major organs were macerated, almost as if they were being eaten away by something. He suffocated in the excess fluid."  
Pete winced at her description. "How long would something like that take?"  
"Without knowing the mechanism that caused it, it's hard to say." Catherine rested her chin in her hand. "I don't know of anything that could cause that kind of damage."  
"We do." Chloe nodded at her research wall.  
"Meteorites? Well, you're not the first person to suggest that, but where would he have come into contact with them?"  
"They're all over Smallville." Chloe hastily unpinned the map outlining all the local strikes.  
"And then there's Level 3." Clark explained what little they knew about LuthorCorp's experiments at the plant.  
"OK, so Winters' may have been exposed to something-meteorite or otherwise-at the fertilizer plant. I'll buy that. But what about Mr. Jasper?"  
"Well, that's where our neat theory breaks down," Chloe sighed. "Arthur Jasper never worked for LexCorp, or LuthorCorp; I had my dad check the personnel records."  
"Dr. Carter, you were there when we found Mr. Jasper's body. Do you think what killed his son in law killed him as well?" Clark asked.  
Catherine was thoughtful. "It's possible, Clark. The black liquid you saw around his mouth and nose would seem to be consistent with what the coroner describes here." She tapped the autopsy report. "And he was blue, consistent with suffocation. Which is what I told the coroner, who wasn't very happy I'd taken an interest in the case and shooed me away from his office. I do know this time they've sent the body to Metropolis, so we can't expect a reports any time soon."  
"What about the tissue samples they took from Winters' body?" Pete asked. "Couldn't those tell us something?"  
"Those are probably still sitting in a lab some place." Catherine shook her head. "I'm sorry to say most Metropolis labs take their sweet time unless someone lights a fire under them."  
Chloe, meanwhile, had spread out the map on the worktable.  
"See, Dr. Carter, this is Plant 3, over here." Chloe tapped this spot with her pen. "Here's Jasper's farm, about ten miles further out. And here's the Winters' property. You can see there were strikes near all of these locations."  
Dr. Carter leaned closer. "This is pretty impressive, you guys."  
"Two years worth of work," Chloe grinned.  
"What's this big red circle here?"  
"That's the old quarry. They used to take granite out of there. When they were done they filled it with water; it was a popular swimming hole before the meteor strike."  
"It got hit pretty heavily," Clark added. "It's been off limits ever since." He didn't bother to mention that he'd never been able to go anywhere near it, but Pete looked at him knowingly.  
"Chloe, do you have any other maps? Maybe one that shows the topography of where we found Mr. Jasper's body?"  
"Hang on." Chloe went to the filing cabinet and dug through the top drawer. "Here's one."  
"That girl never throws anything away," Pete smiled.  
"And aren't you glad I don't?" Chloe retorted. She laid out the new map over the old one.  
"We found the body just about here," Clark pointed to the new map.  
"Hum, nowhere near the LexCorp plant. And the plant's on ground lower than the Winters' place anyway."  
"Yeah, the whole area kind of slopes down to the highway." As he spoke something in the back of Clark's mind nudged at him, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.  
"Well, I guess there's no answers there." Chloe rolled the map back up. "What should we do next?"  
Catherine glanced at her watch and sighed. "I need to get back to the hospital. But first thing tomorrow I'll get on the phone with the coroner's office and see if I can find out where those lab tests ended up."  
"We'll keep our ears to the ground and see what else we can find out," Pete promised.  
"Good. But be careful, please." The doctor shook her head. "One kid in the hospital is enough."  
  
******************************************  
A.J. shoved away the tray containing his hospital food as his brother came through the door. "Hey, Lex. I don't suppose you smuggled in a hamburger for me."  
Lex smiled. "Sorry. Maybe tomorrow." He glanced around the sterile but spacious private room and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How're you feeling?"  
A.J. winced. "Like I have a concussion. I'm still pretty dizzy--took me ten minutes to sit up. But as long as I don't move too fast it's not that bad."  
"Where's your sister? I thought she'd be with you."  
"She was, but she had some errands to run. She should be back any minute."  
"Good. The doctor tells me you can go home Wednesday."  
A.J. grinned. "Only two more days of hospital food, then. I guess I can hack it. Do the cops have any leads?"  
"No, not yet. But that's what I wanted to speak to you about."  
A.J. sighed. "I'm really sorry about your car, Lex. That was one sweet ride."  
Lex shook his head. "The car doesn't matter, A.J. I can buy another one. What matters is that you're all right. And I want you to stay that way."  
"Of course I'm all right; I have a tough skull," A.J. laughed. As he took in his brother's serious expression, though, his smile faded.  
"What is it?"  
"A.J., I want you to go back to Metropolis with Catherine. It isn't safe for you to be here."  
A.J. looked at him incredulously. "Look, Lex, I know you're still a little freaked out, but, c'mon. I'm ok."  
Lex rubbed his eyes. "A.J., listen to me. We were both really lucky this time. But I can't take the risk of you being nearby if there's another attempt on my life. That's why you have to go home."  
The boy folded his arms across his chest, revealing the large scrape across his right elbow. Lex winced at the sight.  
"Lex, like I said before, I want to stay here. You need my help to get to the bottom of all this."  
"No, A.J., I don't. What I need is for you to be someplace where I won't have to worry about your safety every minute of the day and night."  
A.J. opened his mouth to protest, but when Lex forestalled him he settled on scowling. "There's no point in looking so hurt," Lex warned. "I'm not changing my mind."  
"Lex, I don't get you, man. I'm your brother."  
"Which makes it all the more important for you to leave." Lex stood abruptly. "What do you think would happen if news of that got out? You'd be just as big a target as I am-maybe bigger."  
"I can handle."  
"No, you can't handle this, A.J. I'm sorry."  
The younger man was silent for a long moment. "Catherine put you up to this, didn't she?"  
Lex sighed. "No, A.J., I haven't even spoken to her about it yet. But I know she'll agree with me."  
A.J. stared fixedly at the wall opposite his bed.  
"Fine. If you feel I'm in the way I'll leave. No problem."  
Lex could tell by the set of A.J.'s jaw-so like their father's-that he was angry. But Lex had made up his mind, and refused to be moved.  
"Fine."  
Catherine pushed open the door to find the two of them glaring at each other.  
"Hey, sorry I'm late. What did I miss?"  
"Nothing. Lex was just leaving," A.J. said stiffly.  
Lex reminded himself he was acting in his brother's best interests, and nodded.  
"I was. I just dropped in to say hello. A.J., I'll come and see you tomorrow."  
The boy only grunted in response.  
Catherine looked at Lex, clearly puzzled at her brother's odd behavior.  
  
Lex laid a hand on her arm. "I'll call you later," he explained. She frowned, but nodded.  
He was careful to shut the door firmly behind him as he stepped out into the hospital hallway. No doubt A.J. would soon be protesting vehemently against being sent home, but Lex was confident Catherine would agree with his decision. He was sorry to see his younger brother angry, and to know he'd hurt him, but he'd make it up to him.  
He'd very nearly lost his brother yesterday, and he wasn't about to take that chance again.  
*******************************************  
  
"You've dried that same plate for the last ten minutes," Jonathan Kent said to his son. "You've probably rubbed off the pattern by now."  
"Huh?" Clark started and looked down at the dinner plate in his hands. "Uh, sorry, Dad." He plunged his hands back into the now-tepid water and retrieved another one, rinsing it quickly under the tap before rubbing it dry.  
Jonathan was not fooled. "Want to come clean, so to speak?"  
Clark glanced over at the living room, where his mother was pouring over the faxes that arrived daily now that Mr. Luthor was out of town. It was funny: a few months ago all they'd had was a phone and one out-of-date computer; now the Kent home boasted a fax machine/copier, a state-of-the- art laptop, and his mom's PDA. All courtesy of Lionel Luthor. Apparently he'd even wanted his assistant to get a second phone line installed, but Jonathan Kent had drawn the line at that. Clark still secretly hoped for a high-speed Internet connection, but he wasn't holding his breath.  
"You've been pretty subdued since you got home from the Torch, son," Jonathan reminded him.  
"Yeah, I guess. I've got this weird feeling, like there's something important I need to remember, but can't. It's driving me crazy."  
"Usually if you focus on something else it'll come to you," Jonathan advised, taking the clean, dry dishes and stacking them back in the cupboard. "I talked to Ethan this morning: he says they're just about done with the investigation out there and Molly and Brody can move back in if they want to."  
After Mr. Jasper's body had been recovered, the sheriff's department had surrounded the Winters' property and home with crime scene tape and posted a deputy in the driveway.  
Clark sighed. "And I'll bet they didn't find anything."  
Jonathan sat down at the kitchen table with a fresh cup of coffee. "Didn't sound like it."  
Clark sat down as well. "Do you really think Mrs. Winters will want to go back to that house?"  
"I don't know, Clark." Jonathan rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "She'll want someplace for her and Brody, though. She's worried about him-he's refused to back to school and she doesn't know how he's spending all his time. But at least he's at the hospital with her every morning."  
"Is she getting better?"  
"A bit, I guess. But she's never been a strong woman, and without Jim and Arthur to care for her.that's an awful burden for a young man like Brody to take on."  
"Dad, were you sorry when you had to stay home and take care of Grandpa?" Clark knew that his father had given up his football scholarship to Metropolis University when his own father had become ill. He sometimes wondered if Jonathan regretted giving up so much.  
"No, Clark, I don't. He was family. I never gave it a second thought. But that was my decision-it's not for everyone. It's hard to care for other people."  
"I think Lex is finding that out. You should have seen him when A.J. got hurt. He looked like he wanted to kill somebody." Clark shook his head at the memory.  
"It's going to be hard for those two to carve out some kind of relationship after all these years. I'm sure Lex cares for his brother, in his own way, but they're still virtually strangers."  
"I was a stranger when I came here, but you and Mom said you loved me right away," Clark reminded his father, who smiled.  
"Fair enough, son."  
Clark grabbed a soda out of the fridge. "Y'know, if Mrs. Winters does decide to stay I could help out. Maybe Brody could go back to school if we helped keep the place up."  
Jonathan nodded approvingly. "Maybe so, son. In any event it's kind of you to offer; I'll be sure to let Molly know. I just thank god that place isn't a farm; then Molly would be in real trouble."  
Clark, who knew first hand the amount of heavy labor it took to keep a farm going, nodded. "They could farm it if they needed the money, though, couldn't they?"  
"No, son. That's why Jim was able to afford that parcel in the first place, even with LuthorCorp driving up land prices all over the county. It's too rocky, and the drainage is bad. That down slope from the old quarry keeps the soil waterlogged most of the year, and in the summer I reckon it would be too dry."  
Clark set down his soda can with a thump, and his father regarded him curiously.  
"Clark, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
"You were right, Dad." He regarded his father with wide eyes. "I've just remembered what's been bothering me all night."  
"Is it something important?"  
"It might be. I need to call Chloe." 


	12. ch 12

"Um, Clark? Do you want to tell me again why we're in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?" Pete whispered loudly as he followed his friend down the deserted road. Pete held a flashlight so they could see where they were going, although Clark didn't really need it. He could actually see pretty well in the dark, although he wasn't sure if that was part of his alien origins or just all the carrots his mother had fed him over the years.  
"There's Chloe's car," his finally whispered back as they spotted Chloe's old pink Dodge by the side of the road. Chloe was bundled up in a fur-lined jacket and a hat, and she was grinning from ear to ear.  
"Clark, I don't say this very often, but I think you're on to something here."  
"Shhh," Pete hissed, but Chloe rolled her eyes.  
"Pete, were a mile from the Winters' place. No one else lives out here- relax."  
"You're not the one whose own mother is going to stick him behind bars for breaking and entering," Pete groused.  
"Trespassing, Pete. Just trespassing," Chloe corrected. "Did you bring something to hold the soil samples?"  
Clark held up a box of baggies. "It's not very scientific, but it should do."  
"Good. There is still a deputy stationed in the Winters' driveway, but he's off at eleven."  
As they started walking Clark raised his eyebrows. "How do you know that?"  
Chloe had the graciousness to blush. "I kinda pretended I was lost and kinda stopped to ask him directions. We got to chatting."  
"Smooth, Chloe," Pete offered.  
"Anyway, it's almost that now," Chloe said, shining her flashlight on her watch. "So we should be ok. Clark, are you sure you know where we're going?"  
"Yeah. See that fence up ahead? That's the western property line."  
"OK." Chloe handed her flashlight to Clark to hold while she clambered over the low fence; Clark followed, holding Pete's backpack as the other boy carefully avoided getting his clothes snagged in the wire barbs.  
"Man, Pete, this backpack weighs a ton!" Clark complained. "What's in here?"  
"More bags, an extra flashlight, some rope, and a bottle of water in case we're out here awhile." He looked defensively at the other two. "I just wanted to cover all our bases."  
"Good thinking, Pete," Clark sighed, heaving the backpack back over to his friend.  
The night was perfectly still, broken only by the occasional hoots of an owl and the rustle of the trees. In the distance they could see the dark shape of the empty Winters house huddled against the horizon.  
"Here's what we should do-if Clark is right, and the soil is contaminated with run-off from the quarry, then there's no telling were we'll find the greatest concentration. So we need to take some random samples, but be sure to remember where they came from."  
Clark frowned. "And how, exactly, do we do that?"  
"I dunno, make a note or something," Chloe shrugged.  
"Uh, Chloe, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Clark was starting to wonder if maybe he should have called Dr. Carter, or even Lex, instead of involving Chloe.  
"Sure. I looked "soil sampling" up on the Internet."  
Pete shot his friend a knowing look. "Oh, she looked it up on the Internet. We're in good shape, then."  
"Get going, you two. I'll cover the area closer to the trees; you two try to get some samples closer to the house."  
While Chloe heading for the tree line, careful to keep her flashlight beam close to the ground, Pete and Clark moved closer to the house.  
"Do you think anyone can see us from the highway?" Pete fretted.  
"They'd have to have on night-vision goggles," Clark told him. "Let's just get this over with."  
The two young men chose a spot about a hundred yards from the Winters' tool shed. Pete shook his head.  
"Better let me do this, Clark. If the ground is contaminated with meteor rocks it might make you sick, and you're too heavy to carry out of here."  
Clark held the flashlight while Pete carefully scooped some of the loose black soil into a bag.  
"You know, Pete, I'm starting to think I was wrong about this."  
Pete stood and brushed off his hands.  
"How so?"  
"Well, I've been out here a couple of times, and I've never felt sick."  
"Not even a little?"  
"No. So maybe it's something else; not the meteorites."  
Pete frowned as he stowed the bag of dirt in his backpack.  
"What about back in the woods? Where you and A.J. found Mr. Jasper's body? That's a lot closer to the quarry than we are now."  
Clark thought carefully. "I don't think so," he said finally. "Maybe I felt a little sick, but that was more from finding the body than anything else."  
"Hey, it's still a pretty good theory," Pete consoled. "Even the EPA said they thought it could have been some kind of environmental contamination. Everyone was just so sure it was at LexCorp no one thought to look out here."  
"Maybe." Clark had been so sure, when his brain had finally assembled Chloe's comment about the quarry with his father's about the poor drainage on the Winters' property, that he'd solved the mystery. Now, however, he felt more confused than before.  
They moved in a zigzag pattern, taking a half a dozen more soil samples, but Clark still felt fine. It was probably the first time in his life he was disappointed that the meteor rocks weren't around to make him sick. After a while they took a break and split the bottle of water Pete had brought with him from home.  
"Maybe LuthorCorp dumped some chemicals out here, like they did at your place," Pete continued to theorize as he took a swig out of the bottle. "Or maybe it's some kind of air-born pollutant from the fertilizer plant; we're only a few miles away."  
Clark only shrugged.  
"Or maybe something's leeching out of the old granite mine; Dad says hard rock mines used to use all sorts of chemicals and explosives."  
"Which we used to swim in," Clark winced.  
Pete polished off the bottle, and stood. "I used to swim in, anyway. That place used to give you stomach cramps so bad you couldn't go in the water, remember?"  
"I remember." The other boys had teased him about being afraid of the murky water. "At least now we know why I couldn't go near it."  
"Guess so," Pete grinned. "I'm gonna refill the bottle."  
Clark nodded, thinking gloomy thoughts to himself. Chloe suddenly reappeared, shining her flashlight in his eyes.  
"What's this, Kent? Slacking off already?"  
Clark shielded his eyes. "We've got a bunch of samples. How'd you do?"  
Chloe flopped down next to him in the damp grass, shoving the samples she had collected into Pete's backpack. "About the same. I didn't see anything unusual-just a couple of pebbles and a few worms. And they didn't look mutated or anything."  
Clark was tempted to laugh at the disappointment in her voice, but didn't. Instead he rubbed his neck. "Sorry. Maybe this was a wild goose chase."  
Pete reappeared and held out the bottle to Chloe. "Want a sip? It's from the outdoor pump, so it's nice and cold."  
"No thanks. And don't give up yet, Clark; I'll ask Dr. Carter tomorrow who we should send these to, and we'll see if they can come up with anything. We'll get to this bottom of this, I'm."  
"Hey, you kids!"  
A beam of light, much brighter than their own battery-powered flashlights, suddenly flashed in their direction. A small figure was standing on the Winters' front porch. All three of them froze.  
"Chloe, I thought you said no one would be here!" Clark hissed.  
"I guess he lied," Chloe said back. "What a creep!"  
The beam of light was getting closer.  
"What do we do?" Pete asked.  
"Um.run!" Chloe grabbed Pete's backpack and took off in the direction of the road.  
Clark and Pete stared after her for a split second, and then ran after her.  
"Unbelievable," Pete huffed.  
Clark, who didn't have to put much effort into running, glanced over his shoulder.  
"He doesn't seem to be following us," he offered as they all hastily scaled the fence again.  
"We were done-ouch!-anyway, Clark." Chloe rubbed her elbow where she'd caught it on the fence. Both she and Pete were out of breath and panting, and Clark was careful to imitate their labored breathing.  
"He probably thought we were out here smoking or something," Chloe told them. "He was just trying to scare us off."  
"Mission accomplished, then," Pete said shakily.  
Chloe proudly held up his backpack. "Look, the important thing is that I saved the samples. If there's any evidence here, I'll find it."  
"Oh, I'm so pleased," Pete said sarcastically. "Can we go now, or do you want to give the sheriff's department a chance to catch up to us?"  
"No, I'm good." Chloe smiled. *************************************  
  
"I still think that was an incredibly risky thing you guys did, Clark," Catherine frowned as she spoke into her cell phone. She was sitting on the end of her brother's hospital bed, and A.J. watched her with a curious expression.  
"I know you meant well, but you should have let me handle it. Well, what's done is done." She placed her hand over the mouthpiece as spoke to her brother.  
"Chloe wants to run the samples into Metropolis this morning."  
"She isn't one to let grass grow under her feet," A.J. nodded his head, and then winced. He still didn't quite have this concussion thing down yet.  
Catherine spoke into the phone again. "No, it's ok, I've already made a few calls. The guy you want to talk to is Kevin Thalos, at Metropolis University's applied chemistry lab. I knew him in college-he should be able to get you some kind of answer right away. Yeah, I'll tell him to expect Chloe by noon. Uh huh. And, Clark? Please be more careful next time. Right. Bye."  
She hung up the phone and eyed her brother.  
"Man, I thought you were a lot of trouble."  
"Gee, thanks." He was thoughtful for a long moment. "Do you really think they're on to something?"  
She sighed. "Could be. If Kevin finds anything I'm sure it will all have to be re-sampled and re-tested a dozen or more times before anyone's convinced." She studied her fingernails for a moment. "I'm still wondering about the mode of transmission, though."  
"Transmission?"  
"Well, if the soil is contaminated, that might make a person sick, sure. Lead, or arsenic, or any other of the heavy metals will put someone in the hospital for sure. But from what Clark tells me the Winters weren't farming the land. Mrs. Winters didn't even garden. So how did Winters and Jasper absorb enough of whatever substance it was to kill them, and kill them in such an unusual way? No, something's still not adding up." Cate paused to smile at her brother. "But I'm sure they'll get to the bottom of it, even without our help."  
A.J.'s faced became shadowed. "Guess they'll have to."  
Catherine sighed. "A.J., you know Lex wants you to go back to Metropolis because he's worried about you, right? We talked about it last night, and I have to say he's right."  
"Fine."  
"No, it's not fine. I don't want the two of you parting on bad terms."  
  
"You never liked him anyway."  
She tried to gentle her tone a bit. "Be that as it may, if you're going to accept him as your brother you have to expect him to treat you like a brother. And that means worrying about you and wanting you safe."  
"And treating me like a baby."  
A.J. looked so petulant as he said this that his sister had to stifle a laugh.  
She shook her head. "A.J., sometimes I forget how young you really are."  
He frowned. "What does that mean?"  
"It means I want you to forgive him."  
"From what I hear forgiveness isn't a real strong Luthor trait."  
"But you're not a Luthor." She squeezed his foot. "You're a Carter, remember?"  
Catherine stood. "Think about what I said, ok? I have to go get your stuff packed if we're leaving tomorrow."  
After his sister left A.J. rolled on to his left side, careful to avoid putting pressure on his bruised ribs. He scrunched his pillow but couldn't seem to get comfortable in any position. He finally gave up and just stared at the ceiling. **********************************************  
  
"Hey, Lex? Have you got a second?"  
Lex turned, car keys in hand, to find Pete Ross standing outside the Talon's back door. The sun had already started to set, turning the clear sky a rosy orange. Lex had opted to park his car at the back of the building, not the front, where scorch marks still marred the street. He shifted his cup of coffee to his other hand.  
"Yes, Pete?"  
It was a strange moment as the two men stood facing in other in silence for a long moment. Lex knew Pete didn't like him, had never liked him. In fact, he didn't think the two of them had exchanged more than a few dozen words since he'd come to Smallville more than a year before. And those words were usually either about Clark or to remind Lex that his father had once cheated the Ross family out of their creamed corn factory.  
As if anyone in this town has ever left me forget that, Lex thought to himself. He braced himself for another barrage of criticism, but it didn't come. Instead Pete just stood there, looking very thoughtful.  
"Look, um, Lex," Pete finally began. "I know you and I don't see eye to eye on much. Well, I guess there's Clark, but that's about it."  
"I know." Lex raised his eyebrows. "Do you have a point? My latte's getting cold."  
Pete straightened his back a little. "You don't need to be rude. I'm trying here."  
Lex sighed and set the cup on his car's roof. "You're right, Pete. Sometimes I don't think before I speak. Sorry."  
A ghost of a smiled flitted across Pete's face. "Sometimes I don't either. Look, maybe you heard that somebody chucked a brick through our living room window the first night of the hearing. And my mom's been getting hate mail."  
"I'm sorry to hear that. You don't think I'm involved, do you?"  
"No, for once I don't." Pete shook his head. "But, after what happened to Carter, I'm worried. And I guess.I was hoping."  
Lex let the younger man fumble for words for a few seconds, and then took pity on him.  
"You want to know what I know about the investigation?"  
Pete looked relieved. "Yes. Just.have the cops made any headway with Erickson? Do they know more about."  
"Look, Pete, I'd be happy to talk to you about it. But I need to swing by the mansion and then head out to the hospital to see A.J. I'll tell you what, if you don't mind coming with me we can talk in the car. Then I can drop you home on the way to Smallville General."  
Pete clearly looked torn between wanting information and not wanting to spend any more time in Lex's company than he had to. Lex was pretty sure he would say no, but then Pete glanced behind him at the Ferrari. That seemed to clinch the deal.  
"OK, as long as it's not out of your way."  
"Not at all."  
Lex unlocked the passenger door, grabbed his coffee and slid behind the steering wheel. Pete was looking around him at the leather interior and the solid wood dash.  
"Nice," he admitted, somewhat grudgingly, as Lex started the engine.  
"I had it imported from Italy. They only made a hundred."  
"Hmm," Pete said non-committaly as they made a right turn onto Main Street and drove northeast towards the mansion.  
"So, listen, Pete, I really don't think you and your family have anything more to worry about," Lex said, breaking the awkward silence. "You've been through a lot, and your mom's taken a lot of heat, and I'm sorry for that."  
"She was just doing her job," Pete shrugged.  
"I know, but she still doesn't deserve harassment. She and I have never met, but my own lawyers speak very highly of her abilities." Lex sighed. "If nothing else, the bombing has convinced the police they need to take a serious look at the EDAL. They've been harassing my workers, and I suspect the police will find the letters came from them as well."  
"The police aren't telling us anything."  
"Maybe not, but that's often how they work," Lex commiserated. "Erickson may have a good lawyer, but not better than mine." He smiled grimly. "I intend to make sure whoever hurt A.J. is punished to the full extent of the law."  
They were passing through farmland now, past the Kent and Lang properties. Night was falling fast, and lights shone in the houses far back from the road.  
"OK." Pete regarded him steadily. "Let me ask one more question, and then I promise I'll never bring it up again."  
"Shoot."  
"Did you have anything to do with what happened to Mr. Winters and Mr. Jasper? Even unintentionally?"  
It wasn't the question Lex had been expecting. He glanced over at him.  
"No, Pete. I swear to you I did not."  
Pete weighed this in his mind for a long moment.  
"I'm not sure why, but I believe you. Still doesn't mean I like you, but I believe you."  
"Thank you, I guess," Lex said back. He knew he should be offended at Pete's words, but he wasn't. He still didn't particularly like Pete either.  
"So how fast does this thing go?"  
Lex smiled. He didn't expect his detente with Pete Ross would last long, but it was nice to know they could be civil, if they needed to be. "Legally? Or otherwise?"  
"Otherwi.look out!"  
A battered Ford sedan had just pulled out into the road in front of them, and Lex slammed on the brakes just in time. He expected whoever was driving to give him an apologetic wave and pull out of the way, but the car just sat there.  
A second too late Lex realized what was happening. He slammed the car into reverse, grinding the expensive gears, but another car quickly pulled up behind him. With both cars sitting lengthwise on the narrow, two-lane road, they were pinned. His only option would be to pull off into a cornfield, but they wouldn't get far.  
Pete looked over his shoulder.  
"What the hell's going on?"  
Lex already had his hand on the door latch, but a figure jumped out of the driver's side door of the old Ford, pointing a shotgun at the windshield.  
"Go ahead and get out," Brody Winters told him. "I dare you to."  
Pete made a strange sound, half-laugh and half-gasp.  
"Brody, man, what are you doing? What.?" Pete moved to get out, but Brody swung the gun in his direction.  
"I'm sorry, Pete, but you'd best keep your hands where I can see 'em. You know what a good shot I am."  
Pete gulped and dropped his hands back in his lap.  
"Stay still, Pete. Don't give him any reason to shoot you," Lex advised.  
The younger man looked at him in amazement.  
"How can you be so calm? Brody's flipped out!"  
Lex was watching in his rear-view mirror as the driver of the second car stepped out. This one, too, carried a shotgun, slung casually over the crook of his arm as he approached the car. But Lex could see the hammer was cocked.  
"Well, well, two birds with one stone, huh? What are the odds?"  
The thin young man with pale eyes squinted through the open driver's side window.  
"Hello, Mr. Luthor. You and Brody have met, of course, but you and I haven't. My name's Rich Erickson. And we have a score to settle." 


	13. ch 13

"That's a pretty amazing story, Clark." Lana Lang put her feet up on the battered coffee table in Clark's loft. "Do you think it's true, though?"  
"We'll have to wait until we hear from Chloe, I guess," Clark shrugged. It was nice to have Lana pay him a visit again: now that she lived in town she didn't drop by as often as she used to. Of course, Clark didn't flatter himself too much-he knew she was here to find out the whole story behind their adventure at the Winters' place the night before. Apparently Chloe had given her only a hasty sketch over breakfast.  
"It never ceases to amaze me the amount of trouble you three get into," Lana was shaking her head. "I got to spend my night pulling coffee drinks at the Talon."  
"It really wasn't that big a deal," Clark offered. "We could be completely off base."  
"It's ok, Clark, really." Lana laughed. "If Chloe had invited me along I probably would have chickened out before we got there anyway."  
"I'm sure you wouldn't have," Clark corrected. For someone other people saw as perfect, it often surprised him how little confidence Lana had in her own abilities.  
"Clark?"  
"Up here, Mom."  
Martha Kent appeared at the top of the stairs, the cordless phone in her hands. She looked troubled, and Clark stood up.  
"What is it, Mom?"  
"It's Mrs. Ross. She says Pete was due home two hours ago. She's been calling around town, but no one's seen him." She held out the phone to her son.  
"Mrs. Ross?"  
"Oh, Clark, I heard Martha telling you what happened. Have you seen Peter today?"  
"He was at school, Mrs. Ross. After that.hold on, Lana's waving at me. She says he was at the Talon for awhile, and left around."  
"5:30," Lana supplied  
"5:30."  
On the other end Pete's mother sighed heavily. "His father and I might just be overreacting, but with everything that's happened.Can you think of anywhere he might have gone? We've tried everyone we could think of."  
"No. But it isn't really like Pete to just take off somewhere without telling anyone." Clark frowned. "Listen, I'll have a look out here. He was probably on his way out and his car broke down or something."  
"Oh, you don't have to do that, Clark," Mrs. Ross said, but Clark could hear the hopefulness in her voice.  
"I don't mind, Mrs. Ross. I'll call you when I find him."  
"Thank you, Clark. You're a good friend."  
As he hung up the phone, Clark looked at Lana and his mother, who were watching him with worried eyes.  
"Pete's probably just stranded somewhere," Clark said with a lightness he didn't feel. "I said I'd check the roads out here."  
Lana jumped to her feet. "Good idea. I'll drive."  
Clark exchanged a quick glance with his mother.  
"Lana, honey, it might be faster if Clark went by himself."  
"Two pairs of eyes are better than one, Mrs. Kent," Lana laughed. "Besides, I know my way around out here at least as well as Clark does."  
Clark shot his mother a helpless look, but Martha only shrugged.  
Clark knew when he was beaten. "Fine. Great." He did his best to smile. **************************************  
Pete awoke in total darkness with a splitting headache. He lay perfectly still, listening carefully; hearing nothing he tried to roll over onto his back, only to hit his head on something only an inch or two above him.  
He swore loudly as pain knifed through his head again. When he tried to raise a hand to rub the spot, however, he realized his hands and feet were tied. He must be in a very small space, because he was already in a semi-fetal position and there didn't seem to be much room in which he could move.  
"Hey! Anybody!" Pete yelled as loud as he could, and then paused, again listening for a response. When none came he laid his head back down and thought. The last thing he could remember was getting out of Lex's car, and being pushed at gunpoint towards the old Ford Brody Winters had been driving. Then the other man, who'd called himself Rich something, had swung his rifle up. There'd been a flash of pain, and then.  
Well, that explained the headache, anyway. He must have been struck with the butt of the rifle. But where was he now, and what had happened to Lex? Whatever had gotten into Brody, Pete was sure he and the other guy meant business. Which might mean Lex was already dead, or dying, somewhere nearby. Pete didn't like the guy, but he knew had to do something.  
Carefully, he felt around with his bound hands. The space he was in was only a few feet wide, and perhaps only a foot or two deep. It was suffocatingly warm. Pete was surprised to realize, as he ran his hands over the side closest to him, that it also appeared to be carpeted. On a hunch, he felt directly beneath him, where there seemed to be a hole in the floor.  
They'd locked him in the trunk of the car. And judging from the cramped quarters it wasn't Lex's Ferrari.  
Pete thought for a long moment. If Clark knew where he was, rescue might be eminent. Unfortunately, as far as he knew no one had seen he and Lex leave the Talon together. It might take hours for anyone to realize the two men were missing, and by then.  
No, he couldn't lie here and hope Clark would find him. Clark had a lot of abilities, but he wasn't psychic. Pete's best hope was to get out and find help. Good thing he wasn't claustrophobic.  
The problem was that there didn't seem to be anything useful in the trunk with him. He checked the hole were the spare tire should have been, hoping for a lug wrench, but the space was empty. There was what felt like a bundle of rope, probably the same stuff they'd used to tie him up, but that wasn't going to do him any good. His legs were asleep, and his hands were quickly following suit, but he finally hit pay dirt. The locking mechanism of the trunk felt rusty. None of the edges were sharp, but he rolled over on to his back anyway. Pete rubbed the ropes binding his arms against the latch, hoping that he'd been able to find the right spot in spite of the darkness.  
As he worked, his wrists growing raw from the movement, he tried to calculate the time. The sun had just gone down when he and Lex had left town; if he was lucky it was past dinnertime by now and his folks would be looking for him. They would call Clark, and then hopefully Clark would come looking for him.  
The minutes ticked by, and Pete grew increasingly frustrated. It never seemed to take this long on TV. But finally he could feel the ropes loosen as the top layers gave way, and with a bit more sawing he was able to wrench the bindings loose.  
"Finally," he moaned, rubbing his wrists, which felt sticky with blood. As quickly as he could he reached down and tugged at the knots holding his feet until those, too, came undone.  
"Hey, Clark! Anybody! Help!" He tried hollering again, but still no one came.  
"C'mon, Clark, where are you? You're the one with the powers-this is your thing, not mine," he grumbled to himself. "What do I know about rescues? I can't even get myself out of a car trunk."  
With sweat now running into his eyes from the exertion, Pete tried to force the lock open. But without any tools there was no way he could get the locking mechanism to open from the inside. He then tried ramming the trunk lid with his shoulder, they way they had practiced in football. Unfortunately, there proved to be a big difference between running into a stuffed dummy and running into a piece of sheet metal. Pete rested for a while, rubbing his shoulder.  
He finally resorted to kicking at the lid with both feet, and on the sixth kick it finally gave way. With a squeal of rusted hinges the trunk lid swung open.  
Pete looked around cautiously. The car was in some kind of paved driveway, but he could see cornfields on either side of him. No wonder no one had been able to hear him. The moon hung low in the sky.  
He gingerly swung his sore legs over the side and stepped out of his prison. His muscles screamed for mercy, but he stayed low, peering around the side of the car. At the end of the driveway he could see the high fences of the LexCorp plant. The other old car was next to him; the Ferrari was gone. There was no sign of his abductors, or of Lex.  
Pete supposed it was possible that Lex had somehow gotten away, but considering he'd been outnumbered two to one Pete didn't think he should bet on that. The three men must be inside the plant, but why?  
He decided not to waste time contemplating that question. As best he could he took off at a run down the access road that wound its way toward the highway back into Smallville.  
"Damn, Brody," he panted as he ran, "what are you thinking, man?" ************************************************  
  
Under any other set of circumstance Clark would have been ecstatic about sharing a private truck ride in the moonlight with Lana Lang at his side. The problem was, though, that it was extremely difficult to scan the cornfields on either side of the rode without her noticing. Pete had told him had a tendency to squint a little when he used either his heat or his x- ray vision. In fact, Chloe had once seen him doing it and, mistaking the squint for nearsightedness, had told him he'd better schedule an eye exam.  
They were about half a mile south of the Luthor mansion when he finally saw something.  
"Lana, stop here."  
As the truck slid to a halt Clark jumped out and ran to the side of the rode. He looked more carefully through the corn. He'd only caught the outline of a shape before, but now he could see it was a car.  
"Clark, what is it?" Lana was out of breath from rushing to his side.  
"Um, I thought I say something out here. See where those stalks of corn are torn up? Stay put for a second, ok?" Not wanting to give anything away, Clark pushed into the tall corn following the damaged stalks. The strange thing was that some appeared to have been hastily stood upright again. But why would someone bother doing that?  
About fifteen yards off the rode he found the car. But it wasn't Pete's old one. It was Lex's Ferrari.  
As quickly as he could he scanned the car, but he found no sign of a body, or of any damage to the vehicle. He breathed a loud sigh of relief; it wouldn't have been the first car Lex had totaled.  
In the moonlight Clark walked around to the driver's side, where the window was partially rolled down. He didn't see anything suspicious inside, but on the dashboard the 'check engine' light was illuminated. And no wonder-- he could see the keys still dangling in the ignition, but the gas tank gauge was on empty. Clark fished out the keys, and studied the heavy gold "L" hanging on the key chain. It was Lex's car all right. But no Lex.  
"Clark! What did you find?" Is it Pete?" In the distance Clark could hear Lana calling.  
"No, it isn't Pete," he called back, hastily pushing he way back through the field. "It's Lex's car, but Lex isn't in it," he told Lana as he emerged back on to blacktop.  
"Do you think he went off the road?" Lana asked worriedly.  
"It's possible, I guess. But the car was in neutral and the keys were still in it. Lex would have locked it up before leaving it. I think we'd better call my dad and have him bring the sheriff out here."  
As they walked back to the truck so Lana could grab her phone a black car passed them on the highway. A second later it swung around in a U turn and flashed its high beams at them, stopping just behind their truck.  
Clark recognized it as one of Lex' Mercedes, but when the driver's side window rolled down it was Catherine Carter who was driving.  
"I'm glad I caught up with you two. Clark's mom said you two were out here somewhere. Clark, Chloe just called me, and."  
"Catherine, is Lex at the mansion?" Lana interrupted.  
The older woman looked puzzled at the question. "No. Why?"  
"We found his car out there," Clark gestured at the corn field, "but it isn't damaged and Lex isn't in it. Do you know where he might be now?"  
"No. I mean, he was supposed to be at the hospital with A.J., but apparently he never showed up." She looked mildly annoyed. "I just figured he had to work late."  
"This doesn't make any sense." Clark ran a hand through his hair. "Usually if Lex says he's going to be someplace he'll be there."  
"Clark, I'm really worried. We definitely need to call the police," Lana said fretfully, flipping on her cell phone. "Shoot, I can't get a signal out here!"  
"There's a relay tower south of our place, but I guess we're too far out of range. Why don't we." Clark trailed off as a sound carried to him from the distance. "What was that?"  
"What was what?" Catherine asked.  
"That." Clark listened closely again.  
"I heard it that time," Lana nodded.  
"It sounded like Pete." Clark glanced down the highway to the west, where he could just see a small figure in the distance. "I think it is Pete! Lana, let's go!"  
Catherine nodded. "I'll follow you."  
If Clark had been on his own he could have been there in an instant, but as it was it only took a few minutes to reach his friend.  
Pete was standing by the side of the road, palms on his thighs, breathing hard. As the two cars pulled up he grinned widely.  
"Man, am I glad to see you guys! I saw headlights in the distance but I just couldn't go any further."  
Lana hugged him, and Clark took off his jacket and threw it around his friend. "Pete what happened?" He looked closely at his friend's dark hair. "Pete, you're bleeding!"  
"I know. Check it out." Pete held up his raw wrists for inspection. "But that doesn't matter now-I think Lex is in trouble."  
While Dr. Carter carefully examined Pete's head, he related the story as best he could.  
"I think Brody's gone nuts. He and that other dude definitely looked like they had it out for Lex."  
"You think Brody and Erickson took him to the plant? Why?" Clark asked.  
"I dunno.ouch!"  
"Sorry, Pete. It doesn't look like you need stitches, but the wound should be cleansed properly. And you'll need a head x-ray, just in case," Catherine sighed.  
"Why don't you take Lana and Pete back into town," Clark advised. "I'm going out to the plant."  
"Clark, you can't--it might be dangerous!" Lana said.  
Pete gave his friend a knowing look. "No, Clark will be careful and not get too close. And, besides, someone needs to get the police. Lana, you need to drive-I'm a little bit dizzy."  
Lana look torn for a moment, but her sympathy for Pete finally won out. "You're right, you're right." She helped Pete into the truck. "Clark, please be careful," he told him as she slid into the driver's seat.  
"I will, I promise," he told her. He watched as the truck pulled away, Dr. Carter following in Lex' car. As soon as he was sure they were out of view he speed off into the fields.  
He was already gone when the black car again swung around and followed him. *******************************************************  
  
"Where is it Luthor? Answer me!"  
Lex Luthor looked up into Rich Erickson's red face and smiled.  
"Where's what?"  
Erickson swung out hard with his right fist, knocking Lex's head back. Lex thought he could feel blood trickling from his nose, but since his hands were bound behind him he couldn't very well check.  
Brody Winters stood to one side, his gun resting in the crook of his arm, steadfastly refusing to meet his eyes.  
"There were almost a thousand pounds of ammonium nitrate stored in your warehouse, Luthor-I saw the invoices! Where is it now?" Erickson was so angry spittle was dripping down his chin as he yelled, but Lex refused to rise to the bait. He'd learned, being held at gunpoint more than once, that staying calm was usually one's best bet to stay alive.  
"I merely took some minor security precautions," Lex told him smoothly. "Given the situation over the last few weeks I would have been remiss if I hadn't protected my own and my workers safety. The bags you're referring to have been stored safely off-site."  
Lex shot a glance at his other captor.  
"Mr. Winters, I hope you realize that whatever Mr. Erickson here has talked you into is not going to happen as you planned. If you turn Pete Ross and myself loose I can still help you."  
Lex was genuinely concerned about Pete, who'd been struck on the head and stuffed rather unceremoniously into Winters' trunk. He didn't know how bad the injury was, and if anything happened to Ross the town would never let him live it down.  
"Don't listen to him, Brody." Rich stared at Lex. "Haven't you done enough damage already?"  
But Lex kept his eyes focused on Brody. "Haven't enough people been hurt, Brody? Do you really want to add to the body count?"  
The other man winced, but Rich Erickson would not be cowed.  
"Listen to him trying to talk his way out of this," he sneered. "You Luthors are pretty good at talking, aren't you? But you've never learned how to listen." He leaned close, his breath on Lex's face.  
"Well, I say not enough people have been hurt, not if it hasn't made anything change. But you and I are going to fix that."  
Lex raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me. You're planning on martyring yourself for the cause, right? How noble. I assume you were planning on igniting our chemical warehouse and blowing us all to smithereens?" Lex smiled slightly. "Sorry to disappoint you."  
But Erickson met his eyes steadily. "I'm told you're a resourceful man, Mr. Luthor. But so am I. You don't actually think I would have attempted something like this and not have a back-up plan, do you?" He smiled coldly. "I assure you, one way or another, you and this plant are no longer going to be around to harm the people in this town."  
Erickson straightened up and glanced over at his accomplice. "I have work to do. You stay here and guard him. If he opens his mouth again, shoot him."  
Brody still looked a little pale, but nodded. Erickson slung his own weapon over his shoulder and left the room, whistling softly.  
Lex watched him go.  
"He's insane. You know that, don't you?"  
"Shut up."  
Lex glanced over at the banks of monitors. The security office wasn't staffed in the evening, but electronic monitoring devices and video cameras recorded everything that happened on the plant grounds. Winters and Erickson had forced him at gunpoint to unlock the main gates, so no alarm had been triggered.  
"I have security guards who patrol the perimeter of the plant," Lex told Brody.  
The other man patted his gun. "Not tonight you don't. They've been taken care of for the moment."  
"Did you kill them?"  
Brody began pacing up and down. "I'm not a killer."  
Lex knew when to push his advantage. "What about Pete Ross?"  
Brody winced slightly. "Pete will be fine. He's safer where he is."  
"Mr. Winters, please listen to me. I know you blame me for what happened, but."  
"I said shut up!" Winters face went from white to an alarming reddish- purple. "I've heard enough out of people like you! 'Just wait and see what the police say, Brody.' 'Just let the courts handle things!' Well, I've been waiting for justice, and I haven't gotten any!"  
"So you decided to take matter into your own hands. I understand that, Mr. Winters, I really do. But I don't know how many different ways I can tell you that neither I or my company had anything to do with the deaths in your family."  
"Yeah, I know, it's all just a big coincidence," Brody sneered. "My dad worked for this company for almost fourteen years, being exposed to god- knows-what so you and your father could make millions." Brody pulled back the hammer on his rifle, and aimed it carefully at Lex's heart. "And before you and I both die, I just want to know what killed him."  
Lex stared down the barrel of the rifle. "I can't tell you because I don't know."  
"Liar. Do you really want to die with two deaths on your conscience?" His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Tell me."  
"I don't know," Lex repeated.  
Brody's face crumpled, and his hands shook with fury. "Liar!"  
"He isn't lying," a calm voice said from behind him. "He can't tell you. But I can." 


	14. ch 14

"Clark, for god's sake, what are you."  
Lex didn't have a chance to finish: Brody swung out hard with barrel of the rifle, connecting sharply with Lex's jaw. Lex's whole body swayed with the force of the blow.  
Clark wondered again if he'd made the right decision. From a distance he had seen a figure-Erickson--leave the building housing the security station. He had been torn between trying to find Lex and following the other man, but had chosen to find his friend.  
Brody swung the gun around, holding it level with Clark's chest, but his hands were shaking ever so slightly. Clark was assailed with memories-of Brody running for the winning touchdown at homecoming games; of Brody joking with his father and grandfather at the farmer's market. This wasn't some freak, someone without a conscience. This was someone he'd known he whole life, and as much as he wanted to help Lex he realized he wanted to help Brody more. So instead of rushing for the gun he held up his hands.  
"Brody, listen to me. I meant what I said-Lex didn't have anything to do with what happened to your dad or your grandfather. I know how much you must be hurting but this isn't going to solve anything."  
Brody's lips curled back in a caricature of a smile.  
"Oh, Clark. What do you know about it? You haven't lost your family." He glanced over at Lex, who looked faintly dazed from the blow to the head. "You're a good friend, Clark, even to someone who doesn't deserve it. I know you're lying to help him."  
"I'm not, Brody, I swear."  
"No, Clark." Brody sounded very calm, and very tired. "I'm through with the lies. I don't want to kill you as well as him, Clark, but I will if I have to."  
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Winters."  
Clark heart leapt into his throat when a voice spoke up from behind him. Through the corner of his eye he could see a very determined-looked Catherine Carter standing in the doorway. He shot her a look of exasperation.  
"I told you to go with Lana. Why did you follow me?"  
Brody had already turned the gun on her. The young woman raised both her hands and took a step into the room.  
"I'm sorry, Clark, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Lex, are you all right?"  
Lex glanced up; blood was trickling from a cut over his right eye.  
"I've been better, Catherine," he said.  
She nodded, and turned her attention to the third man in the room. "Mr. Winters, I know we haven't met, but my name's Dr. Carter. I was the one who found your grandfather."  
She took a step closer to Clark, and although the gun barrel followed Brody didn't pull the trigger. Catherine gave Clark a steady look.  
"Pete Ross is on his way to Smallville General. He's got a bump on the head and some rope burns but that's the worst of it."  
Clark nodded ever so slightly, understanding what she was trying to do. He knew he could have rushed forward and disarmed Brody in a second -but that would mean exposing his secret, not only to Winters but to Catherine and Lex as well.  
His dad always warned him about acting first and thinking later. Maybe it was time to use his head rather than his abilities if all four of them were going to walk out of this room in one piece.  
"You see, Brody, you haven't killed anyone yet," he said gently. "This whole thing can be stopped."  
Brody seemed rooted to the spot, but didn't lower his weapon.  
"No, it can't, it's gone too far. And you," he told the doctor, who had reached a hand out towards Lex's shoulder, "better stop moving."  
Catherine drew back her hand. "Lex really was telling you the truth, Mr. Winters. LexCorp isn't responsible for what's happened."  
"And I suppose you know who is?"  
"Not a 'who', Mr. Winters, a 'what.' The land your parents bought, the land your grandfather died on, is what's responsible. Everyone was so busy blaming LexCorp that no one looked in the right place."  
"I don't believe you."  
"Think about it, Brody," Clark said urgently. "If it was something here at the plant, why did only your father get sick? Why not any of the other workers? If it was something here how did your grandfather, whose never set foot here, come into contact with it?"  
Brody was quiet for a long moment. "So you two are saying the soil out there is contaminated? By what?"  
Catherine shook her head sadly. "Not the soil, Brody. The water. The water supply on your land passes through the old granite quarry on the other side of the woods. The water's full of contaminants from the old mining operation, and it was also the sight of a major meteorite strike. Chloe Sullivan took soil samples to a lab in Metropolis, and while there are trace amounts of arsenic and other heavy metals in the soil, the levels in the water were off the chart. I think something in the meteor rocks accelerated the effects of the poison, and the evaporation of the ground water concentrated it."  
"And your family was drinking from a well until you were connected to the town water supply, right?" Clark asked.  
Lex was listening with rapt attention, and Brody lowered the gun slightly.  
"That doesn't make any sense. If it was the well why didn't my mother get sick?"  
The young woman sighed. "I'm not sure, but I believe the dialysis has helped keep the levels of in her blood to a minimum. But I have no doubt that if we do a toxicity screening we'll find she's been exposed to it." Catherine looked closely at Brody. "You've undoubtedly been exposed, too. Your grandfather must have suspected the same thing: that's why he was searching your property. But the toxicity had built up in his system as well, and it killed him."  
Clark watched as several emotions played out across Brody Winters' face: doubt, suspicion, and finally belief.  
"And you say you can prove this?"  
"We need to run more tests, and you and your mother both need to be treated as soon as possible. But there's no doubt in my mind," Catherine said firmly.  
"How do I know I can believe you?"  
"You don't. But you're the one with the gun, Mr. Winters. I have no reason to risk my neck further by lying to you."  
Brody weighed this information for a moment, and then nodded.  
"I guess you don't." He lowered the rifle.  
Clark took a deep breath of relief as Catherine quickly began untying Lex's hands and feet.  
"Lex, the police should be on their way. Where's Erickson?"  
Clark helped Catherine set Lex on his feet; his friend leaned heavily against the doctor's shoulder. "I think I saw him heading across the plant when I arrived," Clark offered.  
Lex frowned. "Brody, do you know what his backup plan was?"  
Brody looked slightly dazed, as if he still couldn't quite believe he was letting his hostages go.  
"Um, something about the gas main. He said," Brody squinted as he struggled to remember, "he said the gas main cutoff valve was in one of the outbuildings, and that it could be opened as well as closed. A storage building, I think he said."  
Clark watched as Lex's mouth drew into a grim line-no doubt he was vowing to get his hands on whoever had leaked the LexCorp blueprints to Erickson and the EDAL.  
"Lex?" Catherine was watching his face closely. "Will that work?"  
"There's a series of relay tanks and cutoff valves in storage building four that supply all of the other buildings through underground pipes. If he can ignite enough natural gas at the source it should destroy most of the plant," Lex said grimly.  
"Then we have to stop him. Clark.Where did he go?"  
The remaining three looked around confusedly, but Clark was gone.  
"He must have gone after Erickson. I need to help." Lex swayed slightly on his feet, but Catherine caught him.  
"You're in no shape to go anywhere, Lex. Let's get you downstairs and wait for the police."  
Lex opened his mouth to protest being given orders, but Brody Winters forestalled him.  
"Go with the doctor, Mr. Luthor. I'll help Clark."  
Lex regarded the other man for a moment.  
"Are you sure?"  
Brody smiled grimly. "Erickson promised me you had proof about what happened to my dad. If the doctor here is right then he lied to me as well. And you know how I feel about being lied to."  
**********************************************  
  
Clark ran toward the small outbuilding on the west side of the plant. It was a two-story structure, made of cinderblocks, with a bank of windows set high into the walls. Through the walls he could see a figure up on the catwalk, kneeling down next to the rows of a dozen or so natural gas storage tanks.  
He rushed through the door and up the rickety metal stairs, past rows of storage barrels and piles of discarded building supplies. Erickson was hard at work opening the rows of valves on each tank that let the gas into the underground pipes, too involved to see Clark approach.  
Taking advantage of surprise Clark seized Erickson by his shoulders, lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the tank behind them.  
"What the hell..?"  
Erickson's eyes were wide with surprise, but Clark couldn't see any fear in them. Instead he saw smug confidence, the same confidence that must have led Erickson to concoct this insane and elaborate plot. Clark's stomach knotted at the thought of all the damage this one man wanted to cause, had already caused.  
"It's ending now, Rich," Clark said over the hiss of the escaping gas. Feeling a little lightheaded, he grabbed the valve closest to him and twisted hard, sealing the leak.  
"Oh, now," Erickson said calmly as his feet dangled above the floor. "On the contrary, it's only beginning. This room is already filling with natural gas, and soon enough will have seeped into the other buildings by now to do the job. It's not quite the spectacular exit I had planned, but it'll do."  
Alarmed by the resignation in the other man's voice, Clark dropped him and hastily rushed down the metal catwalk. The garlicky, metallic stench of natural gas surrounded him. His vision doubled slightly, but he managed to shut off several more of the valves before he swayed on his feet.  
"You don't look so good," Erickson said silkily behind him. "Feeling ill?"  
Clark didn't bother to respond; his stomach had cramped sharply, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He dropped to his knees and glanced down at his hands, and was horrified to see the veins on the back of his hands standing out against the white skin, pulsating, green.  
"I don't know who you are, or what you are," Erickson continued, "but I've come too far to let you stop me now.'  
Clark rolled over on to his back, now gasping for air. He frantically scanned the area, but he couldn't see any meteor rocks. Had this building been another site of LuthorCorp's meteor experiments? Why else would it be making him sick?  
He realized how desperate his situation was: with the rocks or even their dust nearby not only did his powers not work but he wouldn't even be able to defend himself against an ordinary human.  
Erickson seemed to sense his fear, and smiled. "It'll all be over quite quickly, I promise." He reached down and picked up a piece of metal pipe; one end was broken, and in the moonlight Clark would see the wicked flash of sharp metal.  
He tried to pull himself over onto his side, grabbing at the handrail, but there didn't seem to be any strength left in his body.  
The older man continued to smiled almost sweetly as he stood over Clark, the pipe in his right hand.  
"I do think it will end a bit quicker for you than it will for your pal Luthor," he said. "He might even survive the explosion, but in any case his precious plant won't, and he won't be in any condition to rebuild any time soon."  
Clark looked up at his assailant, finding it hard to believe his life was going to end this way.  
"You're insane," he whispered as best he could through the pain wracking his body.  
"Of course I am." Erickson raised the section of broken pipe over Clark's chest. "Say 'goodbye,' kid."  
Unable to move, Clark could only watch as the other man pulled his arms back, ready to stab downward into his victim's heart.  
And then suddenly Erickson's body was flung forward as another figure tackled him. The pipe rolled away and fell with a loud clang to the concrete floor below as two bodies landed hard on the catwalk. Clark dragged his body, inch by inch, out of the way as an enraged Erickson screamed and pounded at his assailant.  
From where he had Erickson pinned, his rifle against the other man's throat, Brody Winters looked at the younger man.  
"Clark, go! I'll hold him!"  
Erickson was flailing and kicking, his mad face contorted in a grimace of fury, but Winters outweighed him.  
"Brody, don't." Clark said, his voice sounded strangled even to him own ears. He knew he had to get out, get away from the contamination, if he was going to survive, but.  
"Clark, do what I say!"  
Brody's blue eyes were calm and steady again, and Clark nodded weakly. He half pulled, half dragged his body upright and moved towards the stairs, each inch seeming to cost him eons of time and pain.he almost slid down the stairs, able to hear sirens in the distance, and the sounds of Brody and Erickson scuffling overhead. Clark wondered weakly if Catherine and Lex were safely outside, and if he'd ever be able to join them. It seemed like acres of concrete floor lay between him and the door. He gritted his teeth, and forced his feet to move.two feet.four feet.  
Erickson must have made one last desperate effort, because suddenly both men rolled out from under the protective guardrail. Though Clark could see them falling, he wasn't able to move quickly enough to get to them before they dropped the fifteen or so feet to the floor, the rifle landing several feet away and skidding to a stop against the far wall.  
Brody had taken the brunt of the impact; he lay there like a rag doll, but Rich was able to shakily push himself up with his arms. His left leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, but he looked at Clark as he reached into his jeans pocket.  
"I told you, kid," he said, smiling around a mouthful of blood. "It doesn't end until I say it does."  
Everything happened in a blur.  
Clark recognized what Rich was holding as an old-fashioned silver lighter. Time seemed to slow down as the lighter was flipped open.  
And Clark rushed forward, grabbing Winters by the arms, lifting with the last bit of strength in his body.  
The two of them were almost at the door when the gas ignited. The air in the room suddenly seemed to be sucked inward as each molecule combusted. Clark saw Erickson sitting in the middle of the floor, still smiling, the lighter clutched in his outstretched hand. The force of the explosion threw Clark hard against the door, which gave way under his weight. Suddenly both he and Brody were lying on the pavement as shards of glass rained down on them from breaking windows.  
Clark sat up dizzily, taking great gasping breaths of the cold night air. Orange flames licked at the gaping whole where the door had been, and at the open windows, searching for more oxygen. He was relieved to see the fire seemed contained to the one building. He must have gotten the gas lines shut off soon enough to prevent the explosion from igniting the whole plant.  
He sat for a moment, feeling his strength rapidly returning. Surely nothing in the world could be better than clean, fresh air. Next to him he could hear Brody Winters moaning faintly, and laid a hand on his forehead.  
"Don't try to move, Brody. I don't know how badly you were hurt."  
The other man's eyes fluttered open for a second. "Clark? How did you.?"  
Clark smiled weakly. "Just lucky, I guess."  
Suddenly they were surrounded by members of the Smallville Sheriff's Department. Fire trucks roared up to their side. The fire department was in full gear, complete with oxygen tanks on their backs. Men began hastily uncoiling hoses and flooding the small building with water.  
One of the paramedics clapped an oxygen mask over Brody's mouth and nose; another one looked at Clark carefully.  
"Anyone else inside?" he asked.  
Clark scanned the building quickly, and winced.  
"Yes. But I don't think there's anything you can do for him now." *********************************************  
  
Lex Luthor smiled at the young man seated across the desk from him and carefully slid an old leather bound book towards him.  
"A.J., I want you to take this back to Metropolis with you, so you can finish reading it."  
Catherine Carter looked over at them from her chair by the fire. "You might never get it back, Lex," she said. But she smiled.  
Her brother shot her a hurt look. "Of course he'll get it back; I'll be careful with it, I promise." A.J. tucked the volume of Coleridge's poems under his arm as he stood. "Thanks, Lex. I'll bring it back next time I come and visit."  
Lex smiled ruefully. Both he and his brother sported a few stitches and miscellaneous bumps and bruises from their adventure.  
"Hopefully next time I can find something safer for us to do while you're here. Like parachuting or wrestling alligators."  
A.J. laughed, and then smiled sheepishly.  
"Lex, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how I acted. I know you wanted to send me home because you were worried about me, and I acted like a total jerk."  
"I understand, A.J."  
"Maybe you do, but I still wanted to say I'm sorry."  
"Apology accepted. Especially since you got to stick around anyway."  
Lex had been preoccupied tying up loose ends for the last several days. Since his head was still a little foggy from the blow Brody Winters had given him both A.J. and Catherine had been a great deal of help.  
Catherine had arranged for a more thorough sampling of the Winters property. So far none of the experts Lex had hired had had any trouble connecting the toxicity of the land to the two deaths. It had made headlines as far away as Central City. No one in town was willing to admit they'd been wrong about LexCorp, but then Lex knew better than to expect apologies from that quarter.  
Of course many questions remained. Had the meteor rocks simply compounded the effects of contaminants already leeching out of the old quarry? Or had it combined with them to create some kind of virulent new toxin? Given time, would more people have died from its effects?  
LexCorp had made a generous offer to buy the Winters' property, and Lex fully expected it would be accepted soon. Not only would the money enable Molly Winters to make a fresh start wherever she chose, but Lex would have the land in his possession while his scientists studied it.  
Later, after A.J. had gone upstairs to finish packing, Lex wondered aloud how many months or even years it would take to solve the mystery of exactly what had happened to the Winters family.  
But Catherine only shook her head. "We may never completely understand what happened. The important thing is that we found out about it before anyone else got hurt."  
Lex shrugged. "I suppose."  
The charred remains of Rich Erickson had been recovered from the gutted supply building. The remnants of the EDAL were now under investigation by a grand jury in Metropolis for their role in both the attack on A.J. and the attempt to destroy the plant. LexCorp was already operational again, this time without protestors blocking the front gates. It had been fortunate that, with the exception of the gas tanks, the only other items lost in the explosion had been the empty barrels and scrap metals salvaged from Level 3.  
Lex studied Catherine for a moment. "I've been meaning to ask you-why did you follow Clark out there? You could have gotten yourself killed, you know."  
Catherine stood and stirred the fire before answering.  
"I suppose. But it didn't seem right to let Clark try to handle it by himself." She raised her eyebrows a bit and smiled. "Besides, I kept thinking that A.J. would kill me if I let anything happen to you."  
Lex poured himself a drink.  
"I'm touched." He poured a second whiskey and offered it to her.  
Catherine accepted the glass and laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. He's very fond of you, you know."  
"And I'm fond of him."  
"I know you are." Catherine took a sip of her drink. "Look, Lex, since this seems to be an evening for apologies I'm sorry I gave you a hard time when I first came here."  
Lex shrugged. "You were concerned about your brother. That's only natural."  
But Catherine shook her head.  
"It was more than that. You see, before he left for Europe I had a visit from Lionel."  
Lex stared into the amber liquid in his own glass. "I see."  
"And he told me.well, it doesn't matter what he told me, but it made me question whether I should let you and A.J. become friends. That's why I was so determined to take him home with me."  
"I know my father can be very persuasive. What changed your mind?"  
Catherine looked out the window at the night sky. "I remembered something my father used to say. 'Judge a man by what you see him do, not what others tell you he has done.'"  
Lex smiled slightly. "I suppose it's only fair then to tell you that I didn't like you very much when you first came here, either."  
"Oh."  
"I was jealous, you see."  
"Jealous? Of me? Why?"  
Lex shrugged. "Jealous because you had A.J. as a brother, and I didn't. Oh, I know we're biologically related to each other. But in a lot of ways we're still strangers to each other. I envied the closeness you have with him, the warmth you've developed over the years. My father took that possibility away when he kept us separated from one another."  
Catherine smiled. "But you can get it back."  
Staring through the leaded glass windows at the misty gardens, Lex nodded.  
"I'm going to try." ******************************************  
  
"OK, last one." Jonathan Kent tossed the rope over the roof of the truck and Clark hastily knotted if off.  
They were in the Winters' driveway, or what remained of it. The area was now pockmarked with holes from soil testing, and the county Department of Health had hastily thrown up a chain link fence around the property, as far back as the tree line, to keep away the curious. A deputy had had to come out and unlock the gate so the Winters could collect some of their belongings.  
The front door opened, and Molly Winters emerged arm in arm with Martha. The woman looked pale, the strain of both her illness and her losses clear on her face. But her eyes still shone brightly when she glanced over at them.  
Martha held up the quilt she had draped over her free arm.  
"This is the last bit from inside. Brody, would you add it to the box marked "Bedding'?"  
Looking up from where he was loading boxes into the back of his truck, Brody nodded. "Sure, I'll squeeze it in somewhere."  
Clark and his father stood back while Brody made some last minute adjustments. The bed of the pickup was full and there were suitcases strapped to the roof, but it still seemed a poor showing for a lifetime of possessions.  
Brody had been incredibly lucky to escape his fall at the plant without serious injuries. Lex had declined to press charges against him, as had the Ross.'  
"I'm still kinda horrified by what he almost did," Pete had explained to Clark when he'd gone over to see him that morning. "He could have killed me and Lex. But like I told my folks--in the end he made the right decision. I figure he's already suffered enough. Besides, I think everyone deserves a second chance, don't you?"  
Brody wasn't completely in the clear yet--there was still a chance the state could choose to press charges against Brody for cooperating with the EDAL. If it came to that, though, Judge Ross had already promised to speak to the DA about Brody's mitigating circumstances. In the meantime both Brody and his mother had been carefully checked over by doctors for signs of exposure to the contaminants, and both were being treated.  
But Smallville now held too many bitter memories for the family. Brody had decided to move his mother out to Haddonfield, closer to where he went to school, so he could keep an eye on her.  
While his mother and Mrs. Winters said their tearful goodbyes, Jonathan rested a hand on Brody's shoulder.  
"You take good care of your mother, son," he told the young man. "Your father and grandfather would expect no less of you."  
"Yes, Mr. Kent. I will, I promise."  
Brody looked steadily at Clark for a moment.  
"Look, Clark, I don't know how to explain what happened. I guess I was hurting so much I just went crazy for a while. But I'm glad you were there to stop me before more people got hurt."  
"It's ok, Brody," Clark nodded. He knew Brody remembered very little of Clark's rescue, and was thankful for it.  
Clark's father shot him a small, knowing smile.  
The Winters' truck pulled out of the driveway, and the three Kents stood and watched it head back out onto the main road.  
The sheriff's deputy who had opened the locked gates waved to them.  
"You folks just about done? Sheriff says the less time anyone spends out here the better."  
"Just about," Martha told him as the family climbed back into their own truck.  
Behind the steering wheel Jonathan peered up at the unfinished house, and sighed.  
"This was going to be their dream home. Jim was so proud of it. It just doesn't seem fair, does it?"  
Sitting next to him, Martha shook her head. "No, it doesn't, honey."  
On the other side of his mother, Clark frowned.  
"I just hope Mrs. Winters will be ok."  
His mother wrapped her arms around him.  
"It won't be easy for Molly, Clark. But she's still got her son with her, thanks to you. That's what's really important."  
Clark blushed slightly as his father started the truck. ********************************************************  
  
Catherine barely spared a glance for the thin assistant as she brushed past him.  
"I'll show myself in, thank you," she said quickly as he opened his mouth to protest.  
She pushed open the double doors of the office and stepped inside, closing them firmly behind her.  
"Mr. Luthor? You wanted to speak to me?"  
"Ah, Dr. Carter, hello again." Lionel rose from his chair and held out his hand, but this time Catherine didn't take it.  
"What is it this time?"  
Lionel resumed his chair, idly running his fingers across the top of his cane. "Are you angry about something, Catherine? I do apologize, but this wouldn't wait."  
Lionel's servant stuck his head back into the room. "I'm sorry, sir, but she walked right past me." The man shot a hurt look at the young doctor.  
"Never mind, Charles, never mind. Leave us now."  
At Lionel's languid wave the servant disappeared.  
"Ms. Carter, I know you've been in Smallville. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"  
Catherine sat down, even through she hadn't been invited to do so. "Of course I knew you'd find out, Mr. Luthor. But, frankly, I didn't think it was any of your business," she smiled.  
"Your humor is misplaced, Dr. Carter. I've known for some weeks now you'd disregarded what I told you and allowed your brother to visit my son. I thought I'd explained the situation to you adequately."  
"It was my decision to make, not yours," Catherine said simply.  
Lionel stood abruptly.  
"I told you what I felt you needed to know for your brother's protection."  
The young woman shook his head. "His protection? He needs to know his only brother. I don't consider keeping the two of them apart as 'protecting' either one of them. In fact, I've concluded doing so would cause more harm than good."  
Pouring a drink, Lionel only shook his head.  
"Your brother has gotten along for sixteen years without Alexander in his life," Luthor corrected. "He doesn't need him now."  
"Again, I have to say that isn't your decision to make. I would have thought a man in your position would have admitted that by now."  
Lionel sipped his drink. "I admit nothing," he said thoughtfully. "But I warn you, no good will come of this. Empires cannot be divided in two, not without fatally weakening them from within."  
"That's a strange way to think about your sons, Mr. Luthor." Catherine leaned forward in her chair. "But let me tell you this-if you try to interfere between Lex and Andrew again I don't think either one will ever forgive you for it."  
She looked at her watch. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have to go pick my brother up from school. Goodbye, Mr. Luthor. I don't expect the two of us will be meeting again."  
Catherine stood and left the room, clearly eager to put some distance between the two of them.  
When the doors closed behind her, Lionel sighed and poured himself another drink. Normally he didn't indulge in the middle of the day, but under the circumstances.  
His son seemed bound and determined to involve himself in the Carter boy's life.  
He wasn't used to having his wished thwarted. Lex had to learn there would be consequences to defying him. And Lionel regarded it as his duty to teach him that.  
  
FIN 


End file.
